The Air I Breathe
by FabulousiTyxXx
Summary: When Bella finds out her Fiance, Edward, is killed in a crash in Paris she falls to ruin. After many suicide attempts, she is institutionalized. Bella tries to live without her life, but can she? What happens when an unexpected visitor appears? This story is about finding your strength.
1. The End

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters; it's all owned by Stephenie Meyers.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The End**

**BPOV**

**"H**e left me, He left me, He left me, He left me…" I repeated while hugging my arms around my knees, rocking back and forth in this cold, stark place. I didn't know what day it was, or even the time of that day. Nothing mattered anymore. Food had no taste, the air held no sweetness to my breath. My life was not worth living. I had tried on several times in vain to end it, but no one would let me succeed. Was I even alive? Or was this place my own concocted form of Hell? In my vision, there were no colors: only varying shades of grey, black, and white. The over-head florescent lights only aided in keeping my world grey. Their buzzing drowned out most of my inner-thoughts, a loud blaring keeping me in my zombie-like state. The hospital-like bed I rocked on was lumpy as I stared out the chain-bar covered window into the non-descript outside. A metal clicking sound came from the door of my—for lack of a better word—cell. Still, I kept rocking, repeating my mantra of desolation.

"Isabella, honey. Isabella, you have a visitor today. Will you accept the visitor?" A woman's voice called to me, one that I had become familiar with. Turning my head from the window I had been staring out of, I slowed my rocking and quieted my chant of pain. Looking at the door, my brain told me it was a nurse I was looking at. I could see her nametag: _Nurse Emily_. Considering that she was only asking me out of formality—if it was my father visiting again, it didn't matter if I _did _or _did not_ want to see him: they would make me—I nodded my head in acquiescence. "That's a good girl," she cooed. Nurse Emily came towards me in her starched-white uniform and held out her soft, warm hands. Gingerly, I took them and attempted to stand up but I was so weak: I hardly ate anymore and was often force-fed intravenously. She laced her right arm around my waist, supporting me as I held her left hand, walking together towards the door.

Nurse Emily guided me down the sterile-white walled hallway that was lined with thick metal, white doors with small viewing windows one after another. God, I hated this place. Random patients loitered against the hall's walls, licking them, or talking to the walls or themselves. These were my peers, my colleagues, if you will. I was grouped with them, locked away with them _here_. Here, I was known as the sad-girl. If I could still laugh, I would laugh at that. Sad? Really? That's what they thought? Who gives a flying-fuck what they thought. They're _crazy_. Sad was a gross understatement. I was so much more than sad: my life was over. It would have been ended if other people didn't feel the need to cling me to this earth any longer. Pain was the only thing that kept me alive in any sense of the word: their pain at the idea of me dying, and my residual pain from losing… _him._ I did not like to think of him. Except for that he was gone, he left me. They tried to tell me lies, the kind that they only meant to comfort me with. They told me he would be OK, that a mistake was made. All lies. I knew he was gone.

Clearing my throat I decided to ask Nurse Emily if my dad came with Sue this time or by himself. It took a little extra work—I wasn't sure when the last time I had talked above a whisper. "Emily?" I rasped. Just then, we rounded the corner to the visiting room reserved for patients and their families. Deciding that I was moments away from knowing myself, I kept quiet. Nurse Emily shrugged it off; clearly thinking I was crazy and it didn't matter if I randomly spoke her name. Whatever. She opened the door to the visiting room and my world of grey was shattered. Suddenly, I saw color: intense green eyes and blazing bronze hair. _Impossible!_

"Edward," I gasped. Suddenly I knew I was dead. This whole white and grey place a concoction in my mind, the movie _What Dreams May Come_ was suddenly wildly realistic. Still, it didn't make sense why he would be in Hell with me.

"But you're… you were supposed to be… _dead_." Abruptly a whirling vortex of grey spiraled around, and at the center was my beautiful green and bronze. My body felt weightless and eventually, in my mind, I disappeared into the black.

.::.

The first time I met Edward Cullen, I was six years old in Forks, Washington. We threw dirt at each other and I went home to dear old mom and dad and exclaimed that I was going to marry that boy some day. It was that sort of magical moment when kids have better insights to their wants than adults seem to know about themselves. That night, however, my parents sat me down and explained to me that they were getting a divorce. "Bella, sweetie, we both love you very much but we just don't love each other anymore," is what my mom had said. I was one of those persistently sunny children that always bounced back. My mom dragged me to Phoenix, Arizona so she could feel the sun on her face again and I bounced back from their divorce.

Over ten years later, when I was sixteen, was the second time I met Edward. I had moved back to Forks to live with my father after deciding that I hated my new stepfather, Phil. When Edward's grown-up teenage form caught my eye, I was smitten all over again. This time we didn't throw dirt at each other but, instead, decided to date. Who knew at the age of six a girl could be so right about finding her soul's counterpart in another. Edward was everything I could have ever wanted in a guy and everything I never knew I needed. He was caring, protective, loving, hilarious, and had this naughty edge to him—I took advantage of that. Edward was drop dead sexy, could have had any girl in the world he wanted, and yet he wanted _me_. He was perfection in his leather jacket, and we worshiped each other.

Transitioning from high school sweethearts to college lovers over the years, our happiness only increased. We grew from love-struck teens to in-love adults. Our junior year of college, after both of us had turned twenty-one, we were thinking about the future. An opportunity came up for Edward to spend his first semester of senior year abroad in Paris. I knew it would be hard for us to be separated for the longest amount of time since the start of our official relationship, but we would make it work; we always did. It was important to him and I knew I could manage back home at University of Washington for the one semester on my own. The night before he boarded his plane that August, we shared our last date in the United States together for the next six months. After our romantic candle-lit dinner at a swanky restaurant in Seattle, Edward drove us out to a meadow-like plot of land overlooking the city. Out of all my memories of _before_, this was the most vivid—next to him leaving on the plane, that is.

.::.

Dinner left me feeling full and content. Edward had his fingers laced with mine as he drove, always too-fast, through the Seattle roads. He had said he had a surprise for me. Although the new dress, necklace, and fancy dinner were quite enough. Getting off the main road, he turned onto a private drive. Grinning his Cheshire-cat lopsided grin—the one I fell in love with when I was six and again at age sixteen—he regarded my confused expression. "Uhm, E? Where are we going?" I asked, curiosity overtaking my mind. He chuckled softly, lightly shaking his head from side to side.

"You'll see _Bella_; beautiful, I need you to be patient for your surprise," he exclaimed through his now-bigger grin. Confidence and love was being exuded from him as he drove on the winding drive. The trees thinned suddenly and there was a meadow with the grass cut short. It reminded me of his parent's home in Forks. Instead of there being the large white house in the middle of the meadow, there was a soft glowing on the ground, like a thousand little candles. I looked around and could not see another car in sight anywhere. _Where was this glowing coming from?_ I had thought. Edward cut the engine and I could see that he was starting to get a little nervous, which was odd for me to see that because usually he was so well-composed. He got out and walked around the car to my door, opening it for me. After dating him for five years I was used to this gesture and just let him do it. It made him feel gentlemanly.

"Thank you, babe." I customarily said.

"Anything for you, love." He answered as always.

We had a pattern that was neither forced nor routine. To us, it was wonderfully romantic. Edward took my hand and led us toward the glow. It was a pleasant night that had neither wind nor rain—one of those rare, amazingly beautiful Seattle nights. As we got closer to the meadow's glow, the lights became individualized instead of one giant glow; I was now able to see each individual candle. They were placed in a careful boxy configuration with a rhyme and reason that I couldn't quite figure out yet. Edward led us to the very middle of the open maze of candlelight and paused. I turned to him, and saw a mischievous smile come over his perfect face.

"Right here, right where we're standing: this is going to be the kitchen—your gloriously big kitchen filled with everything you need to make your perfect culinary creations." Edward started._ Oh god_, I had thought, _he's pulling a _Grey's Anatomy _scene on me before he leaves… he knows I love that show. _I couldn't help but laugh inwardly at how corny, yet equally great the gesture was.

"Wait! You _bought_ this land?" I questioned.

"Yes. This is going to be our home. Will you let me continue?" Edward huffed. It was such a typical moment for us: Edward being sweet and me being ridiculous.

"OK," was all I could say.

Leading us into another room of the candle-maze, he paused again. "And here, here is where I'll play piano and you'll watch adoringly at how amazingly talented your husband is," he assured me with the biggest grin. After I nodded, he moved us into yet another room. "This room will be where our children play as we watch them affectionately so," and again he dragged me into another room. The narrowness of the candles alerted to me that it was a hallway. "And here, in our entryway, is where we'll always remember—," he paused. He released my hand and I walked a few paces away from him, looking at my surroundings and when I turned back to him, he was bent on one knee and held his hands out, one with a small black box and the other searching for my own hands. His expression was undulating anxiety but I could not tell if it was the excited kind or truly nervous kind.

"Edward?" I gasped when I saw him positioned like that.

"Give me your hands, love," he politely requested and I did as he asked. I swallowed hard, unintentionally, at the same time as he did. The fact that we usually did most things in-sync made a small smile settle on my lips. "— we'll always remember that this is where I proposed and asked to be my wife forever and after." I gasped when he said that and felt tears of happiness swell in my eyes, threatening to spill over the lids, as my face undeniably flushed.

"Isabella Marie Swan, my one true love, will you marry me?" Edward asked. Before I could ruin the moment with any awkward pauses, I rushed my response.

"YES! Edward Anthony Cullen! A thousand times yes! I would marry you today, tomorrow, in a pair of Chucks carrying a bouquet of dandy-lions. I love you!" I screeched. After he slid the most beautifully antique diamond ring on my dainty finger, he kissed me passionately before we hugged each other so intensely I feared breaking my ribs. Almost as quickly as we started hugging several cars' lights turned on and was accompanied by their horns beeping and blaring from a small distance. The expression on my face must have been total and utter shock—I can only imagine what it looked like, but I knew what I had felt.

"Where the _hell_ did they come from?" I asked, nearly ruining the moment.

"Bella, they were there the whole time. We can't help it that you are completely unobservant!" He chuckled. This was not the first time he had said that to me; in fact it was a running joke how unobservant he thought I was.

"You will NOT be wearing that at your wedding!" Alice's pixy voice screeched as she leapt from one of the cars to engulf us in a congratulatory hug.

"Well, jeez, Alice. I didn't know you were listening… it was just sort of for effect…" I stuttered and winked at Edward. It served her right for eaves-dropping—hearing something she didn't like. Suddenly we were surrounded by other members of our family as well as our friends that were considered family. My dad and his second-wife Sue came to hug us next.

"Congratulations, my baby-belle. We brought some champagne to celebrate," Charlie, my dad, said as he uncharacteristically got choked-up. I could see through his crinkly-eyed smile that one tear escaped before he pulled me into the biggest hug and nodded to Edward and shook his hand.

"Thanks, dad," I gasped as my own tears started to spill.

"We're so happy for you, honey!" Sue exclaimed as she gave Edward and me her hugs. Next in line was Esme and Carlisle, Edward's parents.

"Now you're officially part of our family! Although you were considered part of it almost the moment we met you. I'm so happy for you two! Just think: another daughter!" Esme exclaimed, full of her own shameless tears and big smiles.

"Oh, what mom? I'm not good enough for you?" Alice teased her mother.

"No, we're just excited for another, honey. Bella, Edward: congratulations. You kids have immense happiness ahead of you," Carlisle offered.

"Thank you," Edward and I said in unison and shared a brief laugh. I added on, "from the bottom of our hearts." We were only engaged five minutes and already we sounded like an old married couple: offering our feelings as one entity.

"Bella, baby! Oh I'm so happy for you!" Renee called to me.

"Mom! You flew all the way from Florida?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Surprise!" Edward whispered in my ear. God, did I love him. He was my soul, the very point that my universe revolved around. I remember thinking then that without him my life was meaningless. I gave him another kiss on the cheek as we stood there in our receiving line of blessings.

"I cannot believe that Edward proposed to you before Emmett proposed to me!" Rosalie cried as she playfully swatted at Emmett's large bicep before hugging me fiercely. "Congrats girl, I'm so happy for you!"

"Rose, you _told_ me you didn't want to be engaged until _after_ college. What's a man to do?" Emmett whined. "Bella, Edward, now you can stop having pre-marital sex and get on with the marital sex! _Awesome_." Emmett thought aloud before engulfing me in his own awkward bear-hug. It was only awkward because he had just discussed my sex life with Edward in front of _both_ of our parents. Following Rosalie and Emmett, the other couple in our close-knit circle of friends, Jasper waited for his turn to congratulate us patiently.

"Darlin' I am just so happy for you Bella! Congrats Edward, may I throw the bachelor party?" Jasper teased. The moment I heard bachelor party, I tensed. "Oh relax, Bella, I was only joking. We gentlemen never need to partake in that ritual when we are so enraptured with our women." I couldn't help but tightly wrap my small arms around Jasper's tall form for making me feel so wonderfully. He always had a way with making people feel great no matter the occasion. It was hard to hold him properly in my arms, and I wondered how tiny Alice was able to accomplish that task when she was so much more petite than me. She did, after all, hug him nearly constantly, that playful thing she was.

My father toasted us all with the champagne and disposable glasses that he brought. It was so lovely to be surrounded by the other couple's in our lives: Carlisle & Esme, Charlie & Sue, Jasper & Alice, and Rosalie & Emmett. My mother was the only single person present, having been fresh off her divorce from Phil. I had a feeling she enjoyed single-cougar life better than married-cougar life. The great thing about Renee was that even as a ninth wheel, she never felt awkward of made the moment uncomfortable. She was her own woman and I truly wished that as an adult I possessed that aspect of her. I also hoped that my marriage would last longer than the two of hers combined and then some!

"OK Bella, so as your Maid of Honor—because Jas and I won't be married before you and my dear brother so it'll be maid instead of matron—I need to know your wedding colors so I can start gathering fabric swatches and decoration ideas for your bridal book." Alice gushed. It was so typical of her to already start obsessing over the aesthetics of the wedding the _moment_ I had gotten engaged.

"Alice who says you're my Maid of Honor?" I teased. Her face fell to a point that pained me to see. "Oh relax, Alice I was kidding! Of course you're my Maid of Honor! I just, you know, thought I could ask you out to lunch or something and ask then. Isn't that more traditional?"

"Screw that! You'd be wasting my precious planning time! Now, colors!" I had never been the type of little girl that dreamt about her wedding day because I had never dreamt that there would be a man stable enough to handle all of my crazy. I had to think quickly.

"Uhm… yellow and black?" I stammered, hoping I chose well.

"I just _knew_ you'd pick those! Excellent! Now I can start getting to work!" She kissed my cheek and flitted off to Jasper's awaiting arms.

That night was the last time Edward and I made love, and the first and only time that it was as an engaged couple.

.::.

Saying goodbye at the gate of his flight to Paris was one of the hardest things I had ever had to previously do in my life. Even my parent's divorce couldn't measure up to the heartache it left me with. Edward had been sweet about his leaving the whole day. He made me breakfast in bed, which was ridiculous to me because it was the day of _his _departure and I should have been the one making grand gestures. I, however, enjoyed it none-the-less.

"I love you Bella, my fiancée. I'm leaving my heart here with you so take care of it. Keep yourself well and I'll be seeing you at Thanksgiving when you visit," he said through a strained expression, meant to keep his tears at bay.

"I love you so much, more than the air I breathe. You are my life. Come back to me, Edward." I pleaded through my own sobs.

"Always," he said before he kissed the ring on my left hand and then my lips sweetly, chastely. He held me in his arms, silently, for a minute or two letting me wet his coat with my tears completely before he started to pull away. We both knew that he needed to go right at that moment or he would never get on his plane. He pulled his body away but still held my hand for the briefest of moments before giving it a squeeze and letting it drop to my side as he backed away towards his awaiting flight. He blew me a kiss goodbye and turned around, dejected. His posture was visibly more hunched with sorrow than I had ever seen in the five years previously. He had been gone less than thirty seconds and already the harrowing void he left had consumed me completely. I started to run towards his gate, dead-set on seeing him _one_ last time, stealing this moment from fate for my own pleasure. Before I even called out his name, his retreating form turned almost as suddenly as my own did. I remembered thinking _the memory of this; I will carry with me always_.

"Edward!" I screamed in anguish. We both sprinted to each other with abandon of our responsibilities: mine to be strong and his to leave. I flew into his arms and we kissed fiercely and passionately. We kissed the kiss of lovers issuing pained goodbyes, when they try to implant their soul into each other's keep until they are reunited. Finally, Alice and Rose had to step-in to break us apart. People were, after all, starting to stare and Edward was literally minutes away from missing his flight. We didn't say any words this time, having said all that there was to say before. This time, we merely nodded with our heads held high.

Once Edward had boarded his plane, Alice and Rosalie dragged my sobbing-ass to the car and drove me to the apartment I had shared with Edward since the beginning of our junior year of college. They were equipped with sappy romance movies, Ben & Jerry's ice-cream, tissues and tequila. It was as-if it was the night to cure the break-up blues. If I had known that it was going to be the last time I ever saw Edward, I never would have let him leave.

.::.

The first week of Edward's absence was the hardest. Although we texted throughout each day and he called me before he went to bed, I still missed his physical proximity and day-to-day small interactions immensely. After the first week a sort of numbness set in as I created a new routine purposely designed to keep my mind off of missing Edward until his nightly phone call. My culinary classes were going well. At the end of my sophomore year at UW, I decided to transfer to Le Cordon Bleu—a Culinary Arts school. It was going to take me approximately two years to get my degree so Edward and I would have graduated around the same time. Also after that first week, Edward and I discovered the genius of Skype. Whenever possible—we put in the extra effort—we would video-chat with one another. It was a blessing to see his beautiful face as well as hear his sensual voice. Because we missed each other so intensely, a few of our Skype sessions would end in Video-Sex and mutual masturbation. It didn't even make me feel dirty: I missed him _that_ much.

The day before I was supposed to jet-off to Paris to spend the week of my Thanksgiving break with Edward, I was a nervous wreck. To say that flying made me nervous was an understatement: I was _petrified_. Wishing that Edward could have been flying with me, I packed up my things: a weeks' worth of clean underwear and bras, ten different outfits (some dressier than others), my make-up bag, my toiletries bag, and some valium a doctor so kindly prescribed for my flights. As per usual, the TV was on CNN as background noise—a habit I picked up from my years of living with Charlie. He had always insisted on being well-informed and CNN was the closest thing America had to BBC. It had always surprised me that he wasn't willing to fork out the extra money on channels as to acquire BBC himself, but his thrifty habit stuck none-the-less.

Infuriated with packing—another one of my dislikes—I settled on making dinner for myself and contemplated calling over the girls and having one last girl's night before Paris. Thinking back on Edward's decision to attend the Sorbonne for a semester, I couldn't help but think of how ridiculous it was that I hadn't decided to attend a Culinary School in Paris, myself. After all, France was renowned for its cuisine and the quality of their chefs. In fact, I was dead-set against me accompanying him, something about him needing his last bits of freedom before graduating college and _real-life_ got in the way. I had always known that I would end up marrying Edward; I just didn't think that we would be engaged until _after _graduation, similar to Rosalie's standards. Interrupting me from my lecture-like day dreams, my cell rang. _Alice_, read the caller ID. I always swore that woman was somewhat psychic, sensing when someone was thinking about her.

"Hey Al," I greeted as per usual.

"_Bella—do not put on CNN…I am on m-my way over and I need to talk to you_," Alice rushed so quickly I thought my ears were mistaken.

"Are you _crying_?" I asked rather incredulously. It was one thing to miss me for a week, but there was _definitely_ no need for tears!

"_Just DAMN IT! Don't put on the TV…trust me. You—you-y… you don't want to see what's on it. Jas-per is driving me oh-over._" She huffed and tried to say some more, but clearly was in no condition to even speak so I placated her the only way I knew how.

"It's already on. But I'll turn it off, OK?" Leave it to Alice to be completely irrational. There was probably something on the CNN about terrorist activity in Europe and she was probably just freaking out that I was about to fly off to Paris in the morning all by myself, _unprotected_ in her eyes. Everyone in our group worried about me constantly rather needlessly. It was as if they thought of me as some China Doll, breakable and always needed to be shielded. What they didn't realize is that usually the only thing I needed protecting from was my own clumsy two-feet. I was raised by a cop and a mother I had to parent: I was tough enough to handle the outside world. "OK Alice, I'm walking over to the TV right now to—," she cut me off with her screams of _No!_

_"The breaking news of the crash in Paris continues to be updated—"_ The CNN reported spoke from the television. It now held my rapt attention; Alice's screams into the phone went mute to my ears. _"Less than an hour ago, an American student studying at the Sorbonne University was hit by a car as he was crossing the street at Pont de l'Alma—the very same tunnel that Princess Di lost her life. He was carried into a Parisian ambulance with a white sheet over his body and is presumed dead. The French Police have refused comment, but a local reporter found the victim's ID lying in the street. His name is allegedly Edward Anthony Cullen from Seattle, Washington.—," _a male correspondent spoke.

_"That was just a replay of our broadcast from about thirty-five minutes ago,"_ a new female correspondent corrected. "_Parisian authorities still have yet to comment on the condition the American student was found in or whether or not he survived. Although, Phillip,_" she turned to her co-anchor, "_Wouldn't you speculate that the victim was a fatality based on the usage of the white sheet?"_

"_Most assuredly, Candice._" He replied with such conviction that a lie detector test would determine that to be a truth. I was no better than such a device.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Hey- thanks for reading one of my new adventures! This is only a preview of another story I am writing in conjunction with _Drowning in Dusk. _I am pretty excited about where this one will go as well. Don't worry, I'm still writing DID!**

**Reviews and Rec's for any of my stories make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :o)!**


	2. Plans

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight or its characters; it all belongs to Stephenie Meyers. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Plans**

**BPOV**

**T**hat was the exact moment my life ended—when the TV spoke his name. Air left my lungs and I struggled to breathe. Running to the bathroom, phone still in hand, I heaved my stomach contents into the toilet and sobs wracked my body in painful spasms. At least I was able to manifest physical pain for the mental anguish I was feeling. My heart, once seeing my Edward covered in that bloody sheet, knew he was dead—and with him, half of me. I was not whole anymore, but the shell of a person left behind in the path of her soul being ripped out. Previously, I had never realized that a person's world could end in an instant, that it was even possible for _one_ infinitesimal moment to create such a wake of destruction. How could it have even been possible for my body to be physically alive without him breathing on this earth? It wasn't right. Shouldn't my heart have literally stopped beating when his did? It wasn't fair. I had told Edward to come back to me and now he never would.

In my hysteria, I had a brief moment of clarity in the form of a song: _I will follow you into the dark_—Death Cab for Cutie's lyrics rose through my being. Edward and I were meant to be together for the rest of our lives _and after_. Knowing what I needed to do now, my life—the few minutes that was left of it—felt purposeful. My fate had been decided the moment Edward's was and now all I had to do was help fate along. With renewed clarity, Alice's tinkling shrieks of horror filtered into my ears.

"_Bella! _Oh, Shit Jasper, she's still not responding and I can't hear her throwing-up anymore—I think she might be passed out," She spoke to her beloved. I would never get that chance again and the thought caused envy of Alice to surge through my broken heart.

"Alice," I rasped; my throat was raw and scratchy from all of my crying and vomiting.

"_Bella! Oh thank God. I thought you fainted. We're about ten minutes away, for some reason traffic is horrid. It'll be ok, I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding—he can't be d-d-dead." _Alice's sobs over-took her again and she became useless to talk to. How dare she speak of my dead soul that way? As if she could understand the pain…

"Alice," I repeated. "I can't live in a world where he is not. I'm sorry, but I know he's dead. I love him more than life itself and without him, I have no life," I said evenly through steadily flowing tears. "Goodbye," I ended, chillingly.

"_Bella, wait! Don't do anything stupid! We'll be rig—."_ I hung up the phone and cut her off mid-sentence. Her pleas meant nothing to me now. Only Edward, my darling dead Edward meant anything. _I will join you soon..._I had thought. Heaving myself off of the bathroom floor took more work than I had expected, I was much weaker than I had thought. The term _sick with grief_ held new meaning for me. Walking purposefully—yet slowly—to our bedroom, I went right to the bed we shared where I had everything packed for my Paris trip. _Oh, I'm still taking a trip alright_¸ I had thought darkly. Rooting through my bags, I found what I had been searching for, the thing that would take away all of my anxiety and then some: my valium. I walked steadily to the kitchen to procure a glass of water—these pills wouldn't be easy to swallow without some. Without looking back, I downed the entire contents of the bottle and washed it down with all of the water in my tall cup. Deciding that was not enough of a relief of the burning heartache inside, I took a shot of tequila—that always seemed to help heartaches in the past.

Once in the living room I had shared and decorated with Edward, I collapsed on his favorite couch after turning on a video of last year's spring break trip. Secretly, I videoed him making a sandcastle for about ten minutes of him intently working before he caught me and threatened to throw the video camera into the ocean, claiming I was taking away his manliness by capturing such a moment on tape. He did no such thing because I batted my lashes and wiggled my hips—but I did turn the video off after seducing him, of course. I wasn't so kinky as to create a sex-tape while on the beach… _that_ trip, anyways. I could feel the tequila burn its way down my esophagus and into my hollowed-out center, helping the valium create a slight haze in my vision. I closed my eyes before the sensation could make me dizzy. There was _no way _I wanted to throw up my fatal combination of pills and alcohol: I would have had to start all over again and I was all out of valium. With the sound of his voice and laughter, I drifted off into a peaceful death.

.::.

A certain amount of time had passed, that much I was certain, before I became lucid again. Surely I must have been dead because I couldn't feel or move any part of me. I felt disconnected from my body, almost like a floating entity in a dark abyss. It was just as people who have died and come back have said: I got tunnel vision and at the center of my view was a blindingly bright light. It hurt my eyes; at least what would have been my eyes. _Do wandering spirits have eyes_? I had thought. In the distance I started to be able to discern a chirping noise, like a bird that slowly became deeper sounding. Then I began to hear the shuffle of… shoes? _How queer_, I thought again. It started to feel like I had a body again, and something heavy was on my chest making it hard to breathe. Oh, I was breathing. Could dead people breathe? I was full of questions and no answers could be found. The voices came next; they were familiar to me but sounded somewhat distorted like I was under water in a tub and they were on the outside of it. There was a strange urge to open my eyes but I tried to fight it. Suddenly, it dawned on me where I was.

"Aw, FUCK!" I shouted as I sat straight up in my hospital bed. I looked around me and saw the many harried faces of my worried family: Charlie and Sue, looking a little worse for the wear; Alice clinging to Jasper on his lap in a chair; Rosalie with Emmett in the corner, and Esme sitting on the foot of my bed, white as a ghost.

"Bella!" They all gasped and screamed at once, not sure what to make out of my startling waking.

"Tell me this isn't _your _doing, Alice?" I challenged. I was filled with an intense anger and the anguish I felt before I took the pills was only the more intensified with my renewed consciousness.

"Bella! How could you do this! What would Edward think?" She tearfully accused me.

"Edward is dead. As should I be… he's… he-he's my _life_! And without him, I have no life," I started to sob.

"Bella, we're so sorry, but you have to pull through this. None of us could handle losing the both of you like this," Emmett explained. It truly didn't matter to me what sort of comfort they were trying to give me. I was broken beyond repair. The only possible way for me to have even been a _shadow_ of my former self was if Edward was to rise from his grave—or the morgue. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious for. Rosalie, Alice, and Esme wrapped their arms around me as I continued to cry and shake. I didn't want comfort—I didn't deserve it. My life was dead and gone. When would they realize that?

"Bella…" Esme softly called to me. Rose and Alice released their holds on me and took a step back. Esme looked about as torn up as I felt. Guilt swelled in my chest. I tried to dampen it down, but since I decided I was _in fact_ alive I couldn't help but feel every bit of it. Regarding Esme with devastation in my eyes, I tried to give her my full attention. She seemed to understand my effort and nodded before continuing. "My son…," she swallowed, pausing to collect her voice, "he is most likely dead. But if he's not, the _one _person he wants to come back to is you. He chose you. He loves you. It would _kill_ him to see you like this. You're stronger than this honey… and I—I just don't know if I could take it if you died too…" Esme started to bawl again and collapsed onto my bed, our sobs shook the bed together. It would have been a sweet moment with my soon-to-be mother-in-law if it hadn't been such a despairing time. My dad stepped towards the bed as Esme and I were losing it so completely.

"Bells, Carlisle flew to Paris about an hour ago; he transferred your flight to his name. Hopefully we'll find out by tomorrow what is really going on. So far, after calling the Sorbonne and attempting to contact the U.S. Embassy, we've got no leads. I'm not telling you this to upset you further, but I want you to see that there's hope. We've all got hope, honey… and… I just love you so much!" Charlie got choked up at the end—he had almost made it the entire speech without getting teary-eyed. I swore he was more and more in touch with his emotions as each day wore on.

"Isabella Marie Swan, if you ever do something this foolish again, I don't care _how_ adult you are, I will whip your hide, girl! Do you _want_ your father to have a heart attack like Harry, rest his soul?" Sue chastised. I shook my head no. "Good! Now you know how much we all love you so don't _ever_ forget it again!" Sue kissed me on the cheek after her rant and it was just so quintessentially her.

Visiting hours were soon over, and as much as I loved my friends and family—which were a small comparison to what I had lost even though I had great love for them in my heart—I was glad to see them go. I was so incredibly tired in a way that I was convinced if I closed my eyes I would never wake up—I was too hopeful. Everyone kissed my cheek goodbye, offering condolences, their hopes, and love. Alice felt responsible for not getting to me in time. I told her I would have locked myself in the bathroom and done it anyways—I omitted the fact that I still had plans to end my now-emptied life. I couldn't even bring my usually benevolent self to feel guilty about my future final act. Esme stayed in my room with me at the hospital; after all, she would have had to head back to an empty home. Charlie, not wanting to give up on his parental status, chose to sleep in the waiting room—something that was only permitted _after_ he flashed his badge.

Once my 72-hour hold was up I was released from the hospital, unfortunately fully recovered. We still hadn't heard any word from Paris, a sign—only to me—that Edward was indeed never coming home, except in a box. Before, Edward had always teased me at how bad of an actress I was and now I was dead-set on proving him wrong as my final act. _Pun intended_. Alice escorted me home from the hospital on that Monday. Everyone was adamant that I see a shrink as soon as possible before these feelings of _grief_ spun wildly out of control again. What everyone had failed to realize was that during my suicide attempt I had the most control over my actions then, than any other part of that horrid day. Needlessly, I agreed to their conditions—asking for a few days' rest first—admitting that I had let my emotions spiral out of my grasp and was incredibly irrational. They bought it, just like that. Even after my outburst at the hospital, they believed all of the bullshit I spilled about how all I wanted was to live my life the way Edward would have wanted—complete and utter horse-shit.

"B, be honest with me ok? Do you have any more of those pills you took? I searched your apartment and couldn't find anything while we were waiting for the paramedics to arrive. Do you and Edward _really_ not have anything? Not even Advil?" She asked, bewildered.

"None. We hated the stuff. I only accepted the prescription of Valium for my flights to and from Paris to see Edward. He was the only reason I would have ever seen to take any medication… My mom got addicted to Oxycontin a few years ago so I never even wanted anything as mild as baby-aspirin in the house," I spilled. It was a secret I had kept for a long time, even from Charlie. What was the point now? I was going to die soon anyways—I might as well give Alice a great performance of how 'OK' I was.

"Wow, I never knew that. So… you must have been _really _upset, like the most ever in your entire life to have done that on Friday…" she hedged. Alice couldn't even bring herself to say the actual words suicide and kill-yourself in all the days since she found me on my couch. It's quite a funny story, actually. On their way to my shared apartment, Jasper called 911 while Alice hyperventilated—for the first time _ever_—in the passenger seat. They beat the ambulance there by a few minutes so Jasper resorted to kicking the front door down, which was all highly unnecessary because Alice had a spare key to the apartment in her purse.

"Imagine what you would be like if Jasper died. Take that times ten and add a wedding ring," I bluntly replied. She gasped as my words sunk-in. Alice was only a year younger than Edward and me, but it would have been impossible for her to have felt as deeply about Jasper in her two years of dating him—ever since she got to University of Washington—to my soul mate connection of five years with Edward. I wasn't a time snob or anything of the sort, but _no one _had _shit _on my love for my man. Of course Edward was her brother, but that sort of love was different and more accepting of loss.

"I know everyone is incredibly upset with what you did, but… how can they not understand—at the very least—you contemplating it? Do they not all have a love they would live and die for? Of course I do not approve at all, but I can't fault you on it," she realized aloud. Never in the years that I have known Alice, did I think I would have to convince her of something reasonable: usually it was the other way around. Once I had convinced Alice of my logic, I knew the rest would fall in line like little ducks in a row. Alice was the guiding force of our blended family, she held us together with her planning ways.

"Right," I concluded. I forced a yawn—quite convincingly, actually. "Is it ok if I just go to sleep? I know you wanted to grab lunch but, I'm so tired. I think I just need a day to sleep this off in my own bed, ya know?" I whimpered.

"Oh of course, that's fine. I understand. We've all been through a lot these past few days and I could use an early night myself," she replied, as she helped me into my apartment. "I'll call you later tonight, yeah?"

"Alright, but before eight o'clock, OK? I feel as though after that I'll be in a very deep sleep. The anti-anxiety meds they have me on make me feel somewhat loopy. Speaking of, what time tomorrow will you be over to dispense tomorrow's dose?" I played along. It was me who suggested that someone dispense my new meds to me each day just to ease everyone else's mind. Everyone generally knew that Edward and I didn't keep other medicine in the apartment, because at one point or another someone would have a headache at our place and we wouldn't have anything to give them when they asked for something.

"Well that depends on whether or not you want to go to breakfast with me," she chirped, almost as her normal self. We were all strained but the ever-hopeful Alice was bouncing back to normalcy better than the rest of us.

"Sure."

"Great! I'll pick you up, say… nine o'clock?"

"Alice, I can drive you know."

"I know, silly. I just want to pamper you a bit. What's wrong with that?" she winked.

"Nothing," I hesitated. "See you tomorrow," I called to Alice as she let herself out.

The moment I heard Alice's tiny dancing footsteps down the hall, I rushed to my newly-fixed door and double-bolted it. Spitting my un-swallowed pill into my hand, I headed for the kitchen to find a plastic baggie for its safe-keeping. I had been tonguing that thing since I left the hospital, and I have to say that it was not without difficulty that I was able to converse with Alice. Next stop on my list was Edward's sock drawer. It held the contents of my escape and the only other person besides the two of us that knew of it was half-way around the world trying to get the scoop on my dead fiancée. _Cut it out, Bella_, I had thought when my breathing became labored; _there is no need for a breakdown. _Edward had stashed the remaining bottle of Percocet from when he broke his arm last year in his sock drawer—prescribed by his father, Dr. Cullen. I dumped the bottle into my plastic baggie that contained the one pill I had spit out minutes before. Needing an unsuspicious place to hide my growing stash, I taped the bag to the underside of the bathroom counter. Now all I had to do in preparation was write my letters and wait a few days to add a couple more anti-anxiety pills.  
Relief flooded me as I sank into the couch. When I had told Alice I was tired, it wasn't a lie. I had needed a moment alone to fall apart for 72 hours and _damn_ was it exhausting trying to hold it together for the sake of my family. When Renee had called me at the hospital, crying hysterically, I could hardly understand a word she muffled into the phone. It took me an hour and a half of bull-shitting to calm her down and convince her of my new-found hope in _What Would Edward Want_? I felt like one of those zealots' wearing a WWEW bracelet—maybe that would persuade them completely. Still, I felt no guilt in deceiving them of my plans. I was operating under the old adage of ignorance is bliss. It was my life, or at least it was. Technically I gave Edward my life years ago—when his ended, so did mine.

I slept on the couch that night, unable to bring myself to lie in the same bed that I had slept in every night for a year with Edward before he left for Paris. It was now a bed of death: the death of him, the death of me, and the death of our love on this earth. Alice arrived at my door at nine o'clock on the dot, extremely punctual as always. Her spiky black hair coifed in its usual fashionable way and her seamlessly perfect outfit put my black yoga pants-clad legs and ponytailed-hair to shame. When I answered the door—shocked that she gave me the courtesy of knocking—I was bouncing on one leg with the other crossed over it.

"Hurry in and give me my pill Al, I have to pee!" I urged. She did exactly that, buying into my scheme effortlessly.

"Oh jeez, Bella. Do you always have to put off peeing 'til the last minute?" She teased. Playing on the group's running joke that I'm a procrastinating pee-er, I was flawless in the execution of my plan. It was a partially true fact, but annoying none-the-less that everyone teased me about my bathroom habits. I fake swallowed my pill, tonguing it as I had before and rushed off to the bathroom. Once inside, I spit out the capsule and hid it in my baggie, re-taping it to the underside of the counter and headed off to breakfast. Alice was none-the-wiser.

.::.

By sheer dumb luck, on the part of my family, I was discovered during my second suicide attempt. I had waited a week before following through with my plan of swallowing my collection of pills again—the worst week of my life— after sending out letters the day before, and making sure that I had taken care of every last detail, including making a will. I had given everyone an "I'm sorry" gift when I saw them individually or in their couple-formation. In all actuality, it was a _goodbye_-gift and an _I'm not sorry for what I'm about to do_-gift. In my plan was the attempt at _not_ seeming like I was a person exhibiting the warning signs of suicide, so I bought them new things instead of giving them something of mine. It was more exhausting than my 72-hour fake-out had been at the hospital. I felt relief as I swallowed the exorbitant amount of pills at the idea of eternal slumber. Adding to my resolute decision, Carlisle only called once in that week to say that there was no update, that no one would speak to him or even let him _inside_ the hospital where Edward's body was brought to.

This time, I was not discovered by Alice—to which I was thankful for her sake—but by my landlord. Apparently Rose had been calling and calling my cell and got pissed off that I was taking such a long nap—that was the lie I had concocted, an ironic one at that—and called my landlord. She gave him permission to enter my apartment with his keys to wake me up and urge me to call her back. When he couldn't wake me he called an ambulance. The doctors told me that if he had called ten minutes later, I would have been dead. How desperately I wished he was ten minutes late—my cold corpse would have been just as still as Edward's. I woke up in the hospital, not the next day, but two weeks later. The combination of pills I had taken, along with another shot of tequila—which I thought was somewhat poetic: trying to cure my heartbreak—had sent me into acute liver failure. Deciding that I needed time to recuperate and a vast amount of drugs to be pumped into my system to restart my liver (a donor liver was not necessary), the doctors kept me in a medically-induced coma. When I woke up, I was groggier than the first time and less feisty initially.

Instead of being greeted with a pissed-off yet grieving family, my father presented me with an induction form to The New Moon Psychiatric Facility of Seattle. Because I had just turned twenty-two (over the age of 18)—during Edward's absence in September—I legally had to sign it myself. I was kept at the hospital for another week for observation under light sedation because the day after I awoke from the coma, I threatened to kill myself again. My father came to the hospital every day, sometimes with Sue and sometimes without. This time, I had gotten no lectures, only sad expressions and silent tears. Rosalie and Emmett came one day, but Emmett had to carry her weeping form out not twenty-minutes later. Alice came twice: the first time without Jasper, and the second time with. Esme never left my side, but also never spoke a word to me. She didn't have to say anything for me to understand how upset she was with me, and with the unknown status of her son. Renee was also present when I awoke. She, like Esme, never left my side either, but spoke to me. Well, actually she cried more than anything. Unlike after the first time I tried to take my life, I became withdrawn and somber. Charlie would attempt to cheer me up with jokes or funny memories but I couldn't even nod a response. The word catatonic was thrown around a lot by my hospital doctors and visiting family.

.::.

I was transferred over to The New Moon Psychiatric Facility by ambulance while Charlie, Renee, and Esme followed me in a car. Renee had gone to my apartment and packed a bag of clothes, mostly things like yoga pants, fitted t-shirts, my favorite sweatshirt of Edward's and undergarments. What made me nervous was the fact that she packed _a lot_. They hugged me and cried shamelessly—all of them. Esme told me she was sorry, Renee told me she loved me, and Charlie told me he'd be seeing me soon. Then, they left me in the care of the Nursing staff, orderlies, and head-doctors. I was given a tour of the facilities, told the rules, and explained how if I progressed properly then I would be given more freedoms and privileges. I had never felt more utterly alone than at the precise moment they locked me in my room. That night was the last time I cried. I awoke the next day and said nothing. New Moon has held me captive ever since, and I have no idea as to how long I have been their prisoner patient. My world was filled with varying shades of grey, black, and white and I was just another soul-less ghost trapped on this earthen hell.

.::.

Meeting the other patients was a gamble of survival: do I befriend this one or that? Which one _won't_ attempt to slit my throat in the middle of the night? It was after I met the other patients in my wing that I realized it was for _my_ safety that they locked me in my cell room at night. Out of all the women in my section, I met only two that I considered to be somewhat normal or less-crazy than the others: Victoria and Tanya. Victoria was a feisty red-head that got locked-up in here by a judge for killing her boyfriend James—who repeatedly raped and abused her—in the middle of the night. She felt blessed to be here instead of jail. Blessed, my ass. Tanya was a blonde sociopath, one of those people that liked to set shit on fire just to let the world burn; figuratively speaking of course, she wasn't a pyromaniac, that was another patient whose name I never bothered to learn. I never said much, but my eyes always did the speaking for me: red and filled with sadness. After a little while I learned that they called me Sad Girl not because of my day-to-day sullenness, but because _everyone _in our wing heard my wailing cries my first night at New Moon.

When it came to therapy, there was group and individual. Group therapy was a joke: it was usually only the _crazies _that contributed. I never said a word during one of those. Individual therapy was different. Someone coined the term ther-rape-me from that movie _Girl, Interrupted_ and I had to admit, it sure as hell felt like I was in that institution with them. That's exactly how individual therapy felt: like they were raping my mind. Immediately they started me on a mood stabilizer and an anti-depressant: the strong shit. Untrustingly, I continued to tongue my meds as second nature. I didn't want to be one of those drugged-out zombies… just the self-induced kind. I also tongued my sleeping pills at first, saving all my pills up inside my pillow. After, what I assumed was a week there because I had seven of each pill variety; I took my collection of pills all at once, attempting to kill myself again. I was naïve to think that I could effectively end my live in a medical facility where they had the technology to bring you back from an overdose. After that they started to check my mouth to make sure I swallowed my pills when they administered them. Because I was too cowardly to hang myself, that was my last attempt at suicide.

The haze the meds along with the sleeping pills gave me was tolerable, at least then I truly could escape into my head and feel the pain I harbored deep inside my core. Often I would day-dream about being with Edward again. Locked away in my head, I would pretend that either he was alive and we had a wonderful week in Paris together, or that I had died with him and our spirits had united into one soul. My pills made me speak more freely in my individual sessions, and my day dreams were conveyed to my shrink, Dr. Laurent Soigner. He told me that in my fragile condition I was having delusions and hallucinations—common in those of a frazzled mental state. Everything I did here was not my own: my room, my 'friends', even my thoughts were wrong by their standards. Mentally, I was checked out. They could have my body because my spirit was long gone. Slowly I started to eat less and less, having no will to nourish the body I didn't want to be connected to anymore. Eventually I stopped eating all-together and they put me in a plain sheet-white hospital gown and threatened to not give back my clothes until I started to eat again. Mentally, I flipped them the bird and didn't pick up a fork for about a week. That's when they started to force-feed me through an IV. They only did it a few times until Charlie, visiting once a week, cried to me how terribly thin I was. I ate very minimally after that.

Alice visited once and cried the whole time. I said nothing. Rosalie also visited once and didn't look at me when she spoke. I said nothing. Esme sent letters and said all the things she couldn't in-person. One day Esme came with Charlie and Sue, their faces were alight in a way that they hadn't been since my very first suicide attempt. Apparently trying a new type of therapy they had concocted, they started to tell me false news of Edward. They tried to convince me that they had heard from Carlisle that Edward was alive, just badly injured. They tried telling me over and over so many times. Every visit they would attempt their lies ended in me going into hysterics and having to be subdued with tranquilizers as the orderlies carried me off to my room to 'rest'. I didn't know how many times that it happened, just that it did.

Every night I had nightmares of the sheet-covered Edward, bleeding on the street. Every day was a waking-nightmare of grey and pain. My memories started to fade and eventually I truly became the zombie-Sad-Girl that the other patients, crazier patients, joked about. I was nothing and I had nothing.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all of the support of this new story!  
I can't get it out of my head!  
Sometimes when something is stuck in my imagination,  
I just have to run with it to see where it takes me!  
Comments make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! :o)**

**_To Help Clear Some Things Up:  
_  
Soigner= to care (in French)  
Mood Stabilizers:** anti-psychotics that help regulate major mood swings; usually for bipolar; in conjunction with an anti-depressant could be used to treat major depression. **  
****Hallucinations:** imagined perceptions (sounds, visions, touch sensations); ex- hearing voices; seeing things that aren't there.  
**Delusions: **false/imagined beliefs; ex- believing that you are God/Jesus; thinking a dead person is alive, or an alive person is dead.


	3. Awake

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of _Twilight _or its characters; they all belong to Stephenie Meyers. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Awake**

**BPOV **

**P**ulled from darkness, I smelled a familiar scent. It was bitter and putrid—why did they always have to use smelling salts? I think I would have rather enjoyed a slap to the face just to _feel_ something again. Opening my eyes, I was blinded by the brightness of the overhead-florescent lights. It took a few moments of blinking to get my eyes to co-operate and to actually _see—_albeit completely fuzzy. Hands around my arms, shoulders, and waist helped hoist me from my prone position on the floor. Apparently _this _particular hallucination had been so powerful, I literally fainted from it. I picked my brain for my last memory before blacking-out. Only colors—bronze and green—surfaced in my mind. Nurse Emily spoke to me, but I couldn't decipher her words as she pulled me completely from the ground to stand on my own two-feet. Upon standing, I closed my eyes for a moment to clarify my sight. I felt other hands—hands in addition to Nurse Emily's that sent an electrifying current of tingles and sensation over my skin—on me. I snapped open my eyes and saw _his_ glorious-self in front of me with an arm extended to my waist. It was incredibly disturbing. Stiffening, I clutched at Nurse Emily's side, afraid of what they might do to me when I admitted what I saw.

"Emily! I'm hallucinating again! It's… much more vivid than before!" I screeched. My eyes filled to the brim with tears, and in such a condition I couldn't care less if they spilled out over my cheeks. I was in a mental hospital, who cares if I cry? She moved her mouth as if she was speaking but no sound came out. Eerily, I knew that I truly was hallucinating again. I could never make sense of when I was awake or dreaming anymore. My head felt like it was spiraling out of control and I desperately needed to get a hold of reality.

"Bella, Bella!" a faint voice called to me from outside my delusions. I closed my eyes again. In the darkness behind my eyes, I felt as though if I never opened them I might be safe from these falsities. But, who was I to kid? I was in this place because no one knew what to do with me. This place had made me crazy. Before I came to New Moon, I had never had a hallucination or delusion in my life. Now, such things were commonplace in my day to day life here—if you can call it a life. Deciding that I can't live the rest of my forced life behind my eyelids, I decided to attempt to open my eyes again. This time, I truly opened them and the florescent lights on the ceiling were brighter than in my dream. I was still lying on the floor, but my head hurt, presumably from fainting. "Bella!" my father called to me again—ah, yes: that's who was calling my name before. Charlie and Nurse Emily helped me stand again—just like in my dream moments before.

"Whoa there, tipsy! You gave us a scare there for a moment when we thought the smelling salts weren't working," my dad joked. _So they _did _use smelling salts…_ I thought. I gave him a half-smile and barely that. He was in a rare form this visit, all smiles and jokes within the first few moments of me being conscious. Removing his face from directly in front of me, Charlie moved to my side and my field of vision widened. Shock rapidly washed through my body all over again as my hallucination was back in full-force. Edward—the only color in my monotone world—was before me only a few feet away. This time my hallucination was _different_. Edward sat in a wheelchair. _Well that's a new concoction, _I teased myself. My anxiety level spiked as I realized that, like in my dream, I needed to tell Nurse Emily of my hallucination. If I was lucky then they might even sedate me. I clutched her arm tighter as I pressed my frail body against her well-portioned curvy one as if she could shield me from my waking nightmare. Like in my dream, tears filled to the rims of my eyes. I'm sure that if I was well-nourished I would have blushed too.

"Emily," I rasped, "I'm hallucinating again and it's really vivid. I'm… scared." I was completely honest, something that I had started to do here. It meant that I would be left alone more readily. I stared at Edward. His face was laced with worry, and it looked as though he might cry at any moment. It was breaking my half-heart all over again. My hallucinations were cruel to me.

"What do you mean, Isabella?" She asked, concerned. "Is it auditory or visual, honey?"

"Visual," I squeaked as the tears started to leak down my cheeks.

"What do you see?"

"My dead fiancée," I whispered. Suddenly I was reminded of that movie _The Sixth Sense_ and wondered if maybe I too had that gift. Then I remembered that I was crazy, so of course I ignored that delusion.

"Bells, no you're not," my dad assured. I looked at him as if _he _was the crazy one.

"What?" I asked incredulously. What did he take me for? Oh yea: crazy.

"Bella," Alice chirped from the corner—I had not previously seen her due to my preoccupation with my visual hallucinations. Near her were Esme, Sue, and Carlisle. _Carlisle?_ Wait… he was in Paris last I remember... "You're not hallucinating. Edward's really here… he's not dead!" She rushed to me, grasping one of my hands that had previously been strangle-hold wrapped around Nurse Emily's arm.

"Stop lying! Why are all of you trying to hurt me!" I screamed, staring straight into Alice's eyes, trying to catch her in the lie. Brave little Alice didn't even shirk away from my outburst.

"Bella, it took me too long to find my son, but I did. You're not hallucinating anymore—this is real. He's real," Carlisle spoke as he slowly stepped towards me with Esme in tow, smiling her big smiles. There was a peace in her face that I hadn't seen since _before_. If the words hadn't come from Carlisle himself, the only person who wasn't present during my breakdown, I would have kept on believing them all to be liars. But once he spoke those words—that this is real—I decided to believe him. I released my grip on Emily and wiggled my withered hand from Alice's warm grasp and took a hesitant step to Edward. Our eyes froze in an intimate connection for what felt like a thousand years. I was unsure of how to approach him. How does one approach their previously thought-to-be-dead fiancée after one has tried to commit suicide, offhand, maybe three almost four times? Words did not come to mind. My connection with Edward was so much more than words and yet simple words like _hi_ were failing me. I could have said _I'm sorry_, but that would have felt too weird rolling off my tongue as the first thing I said to him after everything that has come to pass within the past—_shit, I didn't know how long it's been since I've seen him_—months. Body language seemed to be the best bet at the moment. Raising my eyebrows at him, I silently provoked him to prove that he was real.

"Hello love," his velvety voice ushered through his perfectly sculpted lips on his devastatingly handsome face. In my hallucinations I never did his voice justice. The sound that came from his lips was too perfect to be conjured up by me. Holy Shit, _Edward was alive_. The monumental realization of that bore down on my shoulders as I ran to him only to trip and fall to my knees right in front of him. The action of it exhausted me and I laid my head in his lap and sobbed just as ungracefully as I fell. "I see you haven't changed while I've been away," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. My fingers clutched at his shirt in need of being close to him while my head remained in his lap as I tried to steady my breathing. It was difficult but I managed to calm myself enough to lift my head again. Looking into his eyes, the world shifted again and righted itself. He had come back to me. Now_, _I_ too _was alive.

"Edward," I breathily spoke. "How? You… CNN said you were _dead_. Everything… everything was just so _empty_ without you…"

"Love, how many times have I told you that you shouldn't believe everything you hear on CNN?" he laughed and smiled my favorite crooked smile of his. It elicited a smile of my own, which felt foreign to my lips but oh so right.

"Too many to count," I said through my smile. Suddenly, with his eyes raking over me, I was very aware of what an unruly state I was in. Immediately I stood, somewhat wobbly, and straightened my hopelessly wrinkled white hospital gown. I ran my fingers through my hair to try to tame the inevitable mess it was in—it had been so long since I last looked in a mirror. "Uhm, can I have a few moments to be human?" I asked, playing on our inside joke that I take inhumanly long to get ready to leave the apartment.

"Sure. But don't take too long, I've been waiting to see you for months," he half-heartedly smiled—the seriousness of the situation wouldn't allow his full, beautiful smile. I nodded and turned back to Nurse Emily.

"Emily, can we go get my clothes?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Sure, honey. I don't see why not," she smiled.

Nurse Emily escorted me out of the private visiting room and down a corridor before turning onto our ward's main hallway. Lining the walls were a few of the other patients. Victoria was slouched against the wall by my door, smoking a cigarette.

"There you are!" She called to me and I nodded, not really knowing what to say. "Where the hell have you been? Did your dad visit again?" I smiled at her for probably the first time; her face mirrored the shock of my action.

"Better. Edward's alive." I stated as Nurse Emily unlocked my door, before turning to me to speak.

"Isabella, I have to go get your clothes from the Nurses Station, I'll be right back OK? Your hairbrush and other things should be in your room, though," she assured me before walking off.

"Holy Shit! Are you fucking kidding me?" Victoria scoffed. "Is this another of your hallucinations?" She and Tanya were well-versed in my delusional thoughts and apparent hallucinations—the whole ward was.

"Nope. It's real. I'm just changing really quickly before I head back to the visitor room—a lot of my family has come. I don't know how he's alive yet but I will soon. I just… I didn't want him to see me like _this_ ya know?" I gestured to myself.

"Yeah, you have been looking like shit lately, though you've always seemed like you were a pretty girl _outside_ of New Moon," she teased. She followed me into my room and sat on my bed—the action reminded me of Alice and a pang of sadness hit my gut. She watched while I tried to tame my knotted hair with my brush. There was a mirror in my room—one of those plexi-glass unbreakable kind—that I had to work with. It was amazing to me how soon my arms got tired with the simple routine motion of it—too long had my muscles gone unused and undernourished.

"Uhm, thanks?" I wasn't quite sure how to address _that_ statement but I did my best attempt.

"So when do you get to go home then?" she asked in a slightly higher octave. Was that sadness that I detected in her voice?

"Hopefully I'll be able to go home with Edward today after we visit for a little while. I don't want to spend another day at this place!" Just then Nurse Emily walked back into my room carrying my suitcase full of clothes that they had confiscated from me not too long ago for me not eating. Quickly, I rummaged through it to try to find something _decent_ but Renee hadn't packed me too much in the way of looking attractive so—after putting on fresh undergarments—I settled on a pair of black yoga pants, a grey fitted v-neck t-shirt and Edward's green zip-up hoodie. Everything was so much looser on my tiny figure than I remembered them being _before_. Tying my hair back in a neat ponytail, I regarded myself in the mirror. What I saw disturbed me. My face was sunken-in; my cheeks hallowed out. There were purple bruise-like bags under my eyes. My lips were white and cracked. I may not have succeeded in suicide but I did look like death. I rushed over to my bag and rooted through the mostly unworn clothes and crap Renee had packed while muttering under my breath about looking like shit. Searching for makeup, my quest was unsolved. _Damn!_

"Victoria, do you have any makeup?" I turned to her contemplative form on my lumpy bed.

"Of course!" She rushed out of my room to her own and was back in mine before I knew it. She handed me a tube of pinkish lip-gloss, cover-up, and blush. Her skin tone was on par with my pallor so I knew the colors would be complementary to my natural coloring. First, I applied cover-up to my bags—they being the most unsettling part of my appearance. Then I lightly patted the blush on my cheeks, trying to add life to my face. I finished with a light coat of the lip-gloss—that smelled _fantastic_—and decided that I was as good as I was going to get.

"I think I'm ready…" I half-stated half-asked of Victoria.

"You look so much more alive," she bluntly stated. One could always count on Victoria for a truthful response. "Pretty!" I rolled my eyes at her inaccurate statement; she was probably trying to calm my nerves by saying that. It was amazing how much of myself had come back to me after the knowledge that Edward was alive. I wondered when all of the pieces would fall back into place, if ever. I hoped it was soon.

"Thanks," I said to Victoria. "Emily! I think I'm ready," I called to my open doorway. Before leaving my room, I slipped on a pair of black ballet flats, opting out of going barefoot like I had before—it gave off the impression of insanity.

.::.

The second time I entered the private visiting room was _much_ different than the first. The first time I had dreaded setting foot inside, and wasn't expecting to find what I found. When I entered again—not needing the support of Nurse Emily's arm like I had before—I was met with a near-buffet of my favorite food, Edward smiling, and the rest of my visitors looking much more relaxed. Apparently everyone was celebrating my breakthrough as well as Edward's return. I was just thankful that he was alive at all.

"There you are!" Edward called mid-smile as I appeared in the doorway.

"Here I am," I stated as I crossed the door's threshold.

"You look more like you," he observed. I walked across the room to where his wheel-chair was parked and wrapped my arms around his shoulders in a long-awaited hug. It was a bit awkward because he was in a sitting position and I was standing, but I truly didn't care. His arms instantly wrapped around me delicately as they tightened their embrace. As soon as they had secured themselves around me, Edward pulled me onto his lap—something that I felt awkward initiating on my own because I didn't know if it would be painful or not for him. Once I felt ready to release my hold, I drew back a small bit so I could look at his face eye-to-eye. There was a pink scar that ran from the peak of his left cheek to the left corner of his lips that wasn't present before he left for Paris. Oh, his still very kissable lips. I traced the healing scar with my index finger very lightly as if to will it to heal. It didn't mar his face, but simply gave it more character. When the intensity of the reunion caught up with me, my eyes filled to the brim with tears once again.

"Oh Edward!" I squealed as I mashed my lips against his as my tears streamed down my gaunt cheeks, ignoring everyone else in the room. His lips returned the urgency as he kissed away my pain. It wasn't until my father's grunt that we parted lips—only a few seconds after the kiss was initiated. Usually I felt sheepish for showing PDA in front of Charlie, but in present circumstances, I couldn't have cared less. "I love you so much," I offered, not knowing what else to say to the man I loved so much that I would rather die than be without.

"I know, baby. I love you… I—I told you I'd come back," he whispered that last part to only me. Guilt flooded me to the core as I realized the weight of his words. I had lost faith that he was coming back; I had acted selfishly.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered back, my voice choked with fresh sobs.

"I know, love. It's why I can't be upset with you—who's to say I wouldn't have acted similarly," he admitted only to me. A small amount of relief trickled through me, but not enough to completely quell the guilt I had started to feel. Nodding, I showed the understanding we had because my voice was betraying me with my silent sobs. Our reunion was filled with so much pain and sadness for what had happened to the both of us and yet so much love and gratitude to be with each other once again. It truly was bittersweet. "Before anything is explained, the first order of business is to get you to _eat_ something! A little birdie told us that you haven't been eating many well-balanced meals," Edward joked much louder for the whole room to hear. I knew the time for explanations would come but I could wait as long as I got to be with Edward while I was waiting.

.::.

* * *

**Author's Note:****So! Thanks for reading, again! Thank you to everyone for all of the support  
with this new fic! It's really energizing to get such positive feedback!  
You all make my heart gush!  
^ (Yes, I know... so many exclamation points... what can I say? I'm excited!)  
I hope you all like how un-dead Edward is... I just didn't have the heart to kill him.  
****Don't worry, plenty of Angst to ensue... I don't write fairy-tales, people! ;o) **


	4. Wolves

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Twilight_ or its characters-it all belongs to Stephenie Meyers... I just play with it ;o).**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Wolves**

**BPOV**

**F**ood was practically shoved at me by Charlie and Alice. If I hadn't been on Edward's lap, he too would have been forcing nourishment upon me. For the first time in god knows how long, I was actually _hungry_ when I saw the delicious spread before me: garlic mashed potatoes, mushroom ravioli, tortilla chips and guacamole, chocolate-frosted chocolate cupcakes, and sparkling grape juice—all of my favorites. What on earth could they have been celebrating in this loony bin? Yes, Edward was home but couldn't they wait until we _both_ were to throw a little party? The red, green, and gold presents in the corner were completely unnecessary.

"Bella, I'm so glad you like my garlic mashed potatoes. Charlie told me I should make them for you, he was right: you do _devour_ them!" Sue laughed, visibly less-upset with me now that I was eating again. She was the one that had always been hard on me when Charlie couldn't.

"They're so good!" I said with my mouth full of the goodness that was mashed-potatoes. I kept eating them readily while the room was filled with delighted non-distinct chatter. Everyone's moods had been lifted incredibly since last I saw them. It was most definitely because of Edward's return from Europe _alive_.

"So, other than Edward's return, what are we celebrating?" I asked in-between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, my curiosity piquing. It was the only thing I could keep down because everything else was so _rich_ and I hadn't eaten much recently, and Sue was right—they were my favorite.

"Christmas. You both missed it!" Alice chirped. _What!_

"What!" I replied skeptically. Wasn't Christmas ages ago? Why did it matter _now_ that I had missed something so long ago?… How long had I been here at New Moon?

"Well, Edward was still in France, trying to get the doctor's approval for travel, and you were… _here_. We all tried to come see you at Christmas but you didn't even know what day it—," Alice was cut off, abruptly.

"Alice!" Esme hissed. "That is _not_ the way to approach these fragile topics!" She berated. I became aware of everyone's eyes on me, their faces filled with pity. My gaze darted around like a kitten cornered. It became unbearably uncomfortable, so I hid my face in the crook of Edward's neck as his arms wrapped around me in protection.

"Maybe we _should_ start with explanations after all," Edward suggested, always my hero. It felt as if we had never been apart because it was so easy for us to be together, and yet as though we had both been through war and back: separated for too long. The two conflicting feelings were hard to stomach together. Silently, I nodded into his neck, showing my agreement.

"I suppose I'll start," Carlisle said after a few moments' silence.

"Wait! Before you do, answer me this: _when_ was Christmas?" I asked, removing my head from its hiding place.

"Two weeks ago," Carlisle stated.

"…how long have I been in here?" It suddenly occurred to me that my mind just might have been playing tricks on me after all.

"One month." When Carlisle said that, my stomach dropped. Had I been well-nourished, it might have been more noticeable that my face paled.

"Bella," Charlie called to me from his seat at the table, "I've been to see you every day, don't you remember?" His words pained me as they were full of such devotion and heartache.

"_Not _six months?" I whispered aloud, to no one in particular other than myself. Crazy people always talked to themselves, right? I was playing the part better than I knew. "You mean, dad… you didn't visit once or _twice_ a week?" Charlie and Carlisle's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as did everyone else's that I could see. It finally dawned on them just how utterly lost I had been since Edward's crash. Even now, with his gloriously strong and protective arms around me, I had become accustomed to expecting the worst. Before, I had never thought previously about what would happen if Edward and I couldn't be together; it just wasn't feasible. Now, that's all I could think about. What if he didn't want me anymore? What if I was too damaged for him now? What if he meets another woman and falls in love because I've become inadequate due to my craziness? My insides rolled and I had to fight the vomit that rose in my throat. It was hard to breathe—the air was too thick. I was trying to stave off my anxiety attack that I knew was coming by taking slow and calculated breaths but Carlisle's voice interrupted it—thank god… or, whoever. Thank Carlisle.

"It's understandable how it felt longer than that. It certainly has felt longer for the rest of us—the longest two months of our lives," he comforted. I didn't want to freak out, not now when I had been doing so well all afternoon since re-arriving to the visitor's lounge. Our eyes met and I nodded, hoping that Dr. Cullen understood that I meant to continue with the story. The longer it was drawn out the more agony each minute seemed to accumulate. It was intolerable.

"I'll start where you left off—after Alice and Jasper called the ambulance," when he said that I shuddered into Edward as I felt him palpably stiffen, "they called me. I knew that no matter what you could have taken, you would be in no condition to fly the next day—not to mention that the hospital wouldn't have released you until the mandatory 72-hour suicide hold was up, so I immediately changed the flight to my name instead of yours. I sat at the hospital with everyone for as long as I could before I had to go to the airport.

"While in the hospital's waiting room and the airport's terminal, I made many calls to the U.S. Embassy in Paris as well as to the Police force and several possible hospitals that Edward could have been transported to. It was all in vain, as I ended up flying to Paris to find my son with only blind hope. The first day, I physically went to the Embassy, the hospitals, and to their police headquarters but I got nothing. They all refused to talk to me. Despite having credentials, they thought I was some reporter, trying to get the scoop about the American student that no one else could. After a couple weeks of my persistence, and once Edward was lucid from his many surgeries, they finally let me see him having been convinced of who I was," he sighed, the exhaustion of it all clear in his voice. "I was just delighted that once they told me I could see him, it wasn't in the morgue."

"That was while you were in a coma, Bella," Carlisle clarified. I nodded and felt Edward's arms tense around me as if they could erase the past two months before his hand started to rub small comforting circles on my back. It was still hard for me to accept the fact that it had only been two months that I had been deprived of Edward while living in my own personal Hell on Earth. Edward kissed my forehead when Carlisle continued. "I phoned Esme right away and let her talk to Edward," he paused to kiss her hand that he was holding. "We all decided that it would be for the best _not_ to tell you anything until you were well or at least in a better place to deal with everything. Edward had a few weeks of major physical therapy to get to where the doctors would allow him to fly half-way around the world, not to mention that he needed to be comfortable and able to fly without pain.

"While you were sedated, I had done a lot of conferring with Charlie and Esme over the phone and I told them about New Moon Psychiatric Facility. Edward was against the idea, but you needed help that no one but professionals could intensely in a safe environment give you. We had been hoping that you would have been helped by the time Edward was able to come home. He and I flew in yesterday and that, briefly, brings us up to the present," he finished. I thought there was going to be more to the story and it almost felt as though he was hiding something from me.

"Uhm, OK," I said while nodding. I turned to Edward, my beloved, and kissed his cheek. "So what _happened_ to you? When do you get out of this wheelchair, baby?" I teased. Edward's face became a mask of pain and his blood ran cold with my, apparently, unfunny joke. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" I don't know what I had meant. My crazy was fucking with my mind again. I needed to remember myself… or find myself again. Everyone's eyes in the room immediately found something interesting on the floor and stared at it. Tension started to suffocate the already elephant-filled room.

"It's OK Bella. I—never. The doctors don't think I'll ever get out of this wheelchair. I might be paralyzed permanently," his voice cracked. My eyes flooded with fresh tears that didn't pause at the rim, but spilled like a flowing river. It didn't matter to me if Edward couldn't walk, as long as we had our love, I would be fine with almost any future. My only thought was selfish: _how much_ of Edward was paralyzed.

"Is _everything_ paralyzed from the waist down?" My voice cracked through the never-ending stream of tears. I had no shame anymore in crying, in fact I saw it as the sanest thing I did as of late.

"I don't know, Bella… it's not like I've been able to figure that out… you've been here," he whispered the last part. This conversation was getting extremely private and very fast. "If …_it_ is, then we'll figure something else out, children-wise…" he informed me, his voice full of suffering.

"…I won't be able to have the hoards of little Edwards!" I screeched. My life, in the past two months, was spiraling painfully and irrevocably into Hell. I launched my body the few inches between us into his chest and clung there helplessly. "We need to talk in private," I sobbed, "now!"

"OK… uhh… you're room?" He stated in question form. I hopped off his lap, effectively showing him my reply.

"Excuse us, everyone," I called to the room filled with my other guests. Attempting to push his wheelchair, I made it only a few feet before exhaustion threatened to collapse my body. Alice was the first to react.

"Hop on, I'll drive ya!" She chirped. It was a sweet gesture, but it saddened me regardless. Edward couldn't walk and I couldn't even push him because I was so weak. Everything was falling apart. Gingerly, I sat on his lap again even though this time I _knew_ he couldn't feel it. Alice wheeled us into my room and left after closing the door behind her. A saddened expression had overtaken her usually cheerful face.

"I'm glad to see they gave you a single-room. I would hate for you to be stuck in a room with an insane person," Edward said, making small-talk. I, however, was _not_ having it.

"OK, let's try!" I said as I hopped off his lap. He stared at me like I had a horn growing from my head. "Edward, I'm serious. I want to see if your dick works. Now, help me get you into my bed. Or, if you prefer, I can ride you in your chair… oh that's kinky…" My crazy rant was compliments of the time I had been spending with my sex-crazed mental-institution friends.

"Bella, no. You're so frail; you can't even push a wheelchair without possibly passing out. Sex, is not a feasible idea right now."

"Is that it? I'm too _thin _for you now?"

"No! I always want you!"

"Just not right now…is it because I'm crazy? I'm… not!" I didn't sound so convinced of myself.

"You don't sound so sure… but no! We're not not-having sex right now because you think you're crazy. That's preposterous."

"What is it Edward? Do you… not love me anymore?" I sobbed.

"Don't be ridiculous. I love you … more than the air I breathe. I promised you I'd make it back to you and here I am. Every moment of grueling and painful physical therapy I only thought of you, speeding it up so I could see you sooner. _Right now_ is not the time to make love for the first time since we've been apart…"

"How about a blowjob, that's not physically taxing on me."

"Bella…"

"Edward. I've been living in my own personal hell for two months thinking you're dead. I need to touch you, to feel you in my mouth. I need to see if we can still make pretty babies—our pretty babies. I want to make you feel good… you've been through hell and back yourself. _Please_ Edward?" He contemplated it for a moment, his face showing warring emotions.

"Bella… I just, I feel as though I'm taking advantage of you in your _condition_."

"What condition? I'm in here because I thought you were _dead_. Clearly I can't survive without you."

"You… you know, you tried to… I can't say it. You didn't even _confirm_ if I was dead," he whispered.

"CNN told me you were! I saw them cover you with a white, bloodied sheet! That spells dead to me! It's not like you dying makes a girl rational…"

"I know I'm sorry. It's just… well, although I never thought you were dead, I _did_ have a nervous breakdown because the thought of you _doing_ that… it does bad things to me, so the topic just makes me more than a little anxious."

"Well, let's prove how _alive_ and _well_ we are now by letting me give you a glorious blowjob. Edward, it's happening." I huffed. He regarded me for another moment, before rolling his eyes and nodding.

"Let's see if I can get it up…" He sounded embarrassed as he said that. As soon as he conceded, I walked over to the door and locked it. It would only keep non-staff people out, because if the staff wanted in they had keys. Sensuously, I turned around towards him with my back against the door. I licked my lips because I knew he liked it when I did that. Seeing what it did in his eyes, I hummed in satisfaction—a low guttural sound. Slowly, with calculated steps, I walked towards my fiancé. A slow-burning fire ignited in his eyes that hungrily burned brighter with every step I took. It was difficult to not avert my eyes at his crotch, looking to see if he arose to the occasion or not yet. Walking and licking my lips were the _least_ of the tricks I had up my sleeves; I hadn't even _touched_ him yet.

"Mmm, I have no doubts about the talents of your cock," I whispered, deeply. He let out a low growl, inevitably turned on. After dating him for five years, four of them being fully sexually intimate, I knew his tells. I was also pretty sure he had never heard me use the word cock, well wasn't I just full of surprises. Being stuck in a loony bin with ridiculously horny and near-sexual-deviants had a few perks: a girl learned how to dirty talk. This, of course, was the first time I even considered doing it _after_ the whole Paris-mixup.

"Oh Bella," he exhaled, slow and deep, "you've got a newly-_filthy_ mouth. I want to _feel_ that…" he winked. I loved it when he did that: I could feel my girly parts tingle with excitement. If only he'd let me mount him—I swear he'd be oh-so-willing to have sex, my current frailty ignored.

"Oh you will, don't you worry _baby_. The one good thing about being a new card-carrying member of a big ol' bag of crazy, I've got many _things_ in that bag: I'll make you feel so good, it's been so _long _since I've _tasted _you…" I licked my lips again and tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth. I was turning myself on; it was such a foreign feeling. Two months is an awfully long time to be devoid of a sex-drive. Closing the few feet's distance left between us, I was finally able to touch him again. My body reacted immediately: heart pounding, panties soaking, skin tingling—it was amazing. Time had not dimmed our physical connection we shared just as death had not.

My hands were placed on either cheek, as I brought my lips to his. It was slow and sweet at first, but quickly accelerated as our months upon months of need all stacked up and nearly exploded. Our hands were all over each other: feeling and touching, healing and loving each other with our touches. Finally, I couldn't take the suspense anymore—not having cheated and peeked at his crotch—I moved my hands and unbuttoned his jeans and agonizingly slowly—for us—pulled down the zipper. Because I hadn't used my eyes for confirmation of a hard-on, I wasn't quite sure yet. Before I could even get my hands on his boxers or look for an erection, Edward's voice startled me.

"Bella!" He called, eyes wide. At first I found the look confusing, but as usual for us, we could communicate with each other without words and I _knew_ why he had called my name in surprise. I pulled down his boxers and out flopped the most gloriously erect penis _ever_. We shared an intimate smile for a few moments before either of us made a move or a sound.

"I knew you could get _hard_ for me," I winked. "I love you," I threw in at the end. His face was alight with pride and almost all of the anxiety that had been there before had melted away in the wake of his boner. It was laughable that two engaged adults could get so excited over such a simple thing as an erection, but to us it meant _everything_. It meant that our future was still intact. "Now let's make you come, baby!" I cheered. I felt a little like how Alice would be if… OK well my thoughts wouldn't let me go there, but I imagined that Alice would cheer like that. Edward chuckled from deep within his gut—a truly wonderful sound. I kissed his deliciously kissable lips as my hand traveled south found the most beautifully hard dick the earth had ever seen. Our lips parted and our tongues battled out our fiery passion. Breaking the kiss, my lips traveled south as well, kissing soft yet intense kisses across his jaw, down his neck, nipping at his collar bone and the length of his torso on the bare skin that I had revealed after unbuttoning his plaid, collared shirt. Being intimate with Edward set Earth spinning on its correct axis again. It was as though I knew that suddenly the world had righted itself: food had taste, the air held its sweetness, and the sun would rise in the morning.

Before fully taking Edward's member into my mouth, I licked around the head, teasing him. While I wasn't going to tantricly torture him, I did want to give him an intense orgasm. Tasting his precum that began leaking from the tip of his penis my juices started flowing in anticipation. I knew that Edward couldn't reciprocate—his current position embarrassing enough without figuring out the maneuvering of him trying to get me off—but it still made me hornier than hell to _taste_ him. Looking up at him through my lashes while my mouth was wrapped around the head of his dick, it twitched when he and I made eye contact. _This is going to be easy_, I thought.

Concentrating at my task at hand, I began to suck on the tip while circling my tongue in languid circles around it, feeling him stiffen even more as moans of pleasure escaped from his lips. When I had my fill with teasing him, I took him into my mouth as far as I could while my tongue traced the underside of his penis with pointed pressure, adding more friction. Once his dick was sufficiently saturated with his precum and my saliva, I added one of my hands to the mix. Usually, I liked the challenge of getting him off with using _only_ my mouth, but today didn't feel like one of those bang-me-against-the-wall type days, although every day really should be. In the same pumping motion, my hand matched the pace of my mouth that had started to speed up as I felt Edward getting closer to release. While I tongued his frenulum on the underside of the head, Edward slightly shuddered, showing how aroused he was.

"Oh Bella," he moaned in his lusty voice, "you have got a serious talent with that mouth—uhhh. I missed you so much." I kept my pace, and started to lightly grip and play with his balls as I knew he was about orgasm. "Shit—I'm going to cum!" He growled. I moaned with my mouth around his dick, adding a vibrating sensation around his dick just before he released hot spurts of himself into the back of my throat. I swallowed it graciously, thinking in the back of my mind how it would make me stronger with all of that protein in it. It took everything for my deranged brain not to laugh aloud alerting Edward to my crazy conjectures. I mean, honestly, who thinks about their fiancé's jizz making them stronger? Insane people: that's who. I licked my lips and thought about brushing my teeth—there was no need to go back to our family with semen-breath. _Again with the bizarre thoughts!_, I internally chastised myself. When Edward's lazy, lustily lidded eyes finally opened, ours connected again and my cheeks slightly flushed. No matter how often or much we had experienced sexually together, I always blushed. This time though, Edward didn't comment on my blush like he usually did. It must have been because my skin was so tinged with malnourishment that any sort of blush would have indicated me to be healthy—quite the opposite of the current reality.

"I can't wait until I can see you blush again," Edward said, calling me from my thoughts and confirming what I had been thinking. I had truly let myself go. For most women that meant getting fatter, becoming lazy, and not making an effort at all with their clothes and appearance. For me, it meant not eating, not dressing myself at all, and going bat-shit crazy.

"I did. You just can't see it…" He brought his hand to rest on my cheek after I said that.

"Hmm… your cheek is warm, Bella," he observed. "Perhaps we should get you back to the little party so you can eat some more."

"Why? I'm already full of you," I teased. The answering look on Edward's face was pricelessly hilarious: shocked, confused, aroused, and amused. He guffawed and gave me my favorite half-smile of his.

"Bella, since when are you a bit raunchy?" He asked in a low chuckle.

"If I wasn't so confused about time right now, I could tell you. I'm not sure when the exact moment occurred, though it was probably over the course of the past month in here. Victoria and Tanya have rubbed off on me…" My answer was extremely honest and perhaps one that he wasn't expecting. If I had been using my brain, I would have realized it had been a rhetorical question.

"Oh? Who are they?"

"Fellow in-mates, I mean: patients."

"Well, love, we do have a lot of catching up to do."

"Two-months' worth, or so I'm told."

.::.

My family gathering, that was later joined by Jasper, Rose, and Emmett, was finally coming to a close around, what I was told, seven pm—when visiting hours ended. It confused me that we had stayed there for the duration of the party, that they hadn't taken me home yet but I figured they wanted me to eat something and show signs of normalcy before we could leave.

"OK, well you guys can take me home now! Let's get me checked-OUT!" I teased to my remaining visitors: Charlie and Sue, Dr. Cullen with Esme, and Edward. Nurse Emily had just come in the room as I exclaimed my desire to leave.

"Well Bella, if you want to be discharged then you have to meet with Dr. Soigner so he can do the discharge interview and paperwork. You can only leave with a doctor's permission now, since you signed the admittance paperwork," she stated in a very professional way, unlike how she usually was with me.

"Why didn't we do this before?" I asked not only Emily, but my family as well. No one's eyes met mine, except for my Edward.

"You know how Alice is, she wanted to have a party here so she did just that," he said to me before turning to Emily who had been standing in the doorway. "Nurse Emily, might we go see Dr. Soigner now?" he charmingly asked. He was trying to dazzle her to get his way, something that he was very good at.

"Oh—of course Mr. Cullen. I'll just call him from the nurse's station. He's usually here until 7:30, so we're catching him right in-time for a meeting," she chattered before walking off briskly to make her phone call. I could tell she was attracted to him, but I didn't feel any jealousy. I was used to other women being attracted to my man; he was devastatingly beautiful so _of course_ she would be attracted to him: everyone was.

.::.

Once in Dr. Laurent's office, I sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk and Esme in the other while Edward was wheeled in-between us. Carlisle stood behind Esme, resting his hands on her shoulders while Charlie stood behind me as I held Edward's hand. Sue had said that she had a few things to take care of so she went to go do them elsewhere.

"So, where are these release papers? I would like to go home with my fiancé tonight," I stated, smiling. Dr. Laurent eyed me curiously. Admittedly, he had never seen me so lucid or so much life in my eyes. To him, previously had I been out of touch with reality: hallucinating and now he probably thought the death of Edward was a delusion of mine when in all actuality it was an oversight on the part of CNN. I could allow myself to get frustrated, but what I really wanted to do was to go home _finally_ and sleep in the same bed with the man I had been missing for the past five months.

"Well, let's talk Isabella," Dr. Soigner suggested. Even through his French accent, I knew what his tone was saying. He was about to deny me exit. I was excellent at reading people. "Why should you suddenly be able to leave?" he asked, full-well knowing why.

"Seriously? Edward's alive. I'm never going to try to kill myself again."

"Until next time you think he's dead, or actually is," Dr. Laurent stated. His quizzical light-brown colored brow furrowed in accusation and I didn't know how to answer that.

"Uhm… no," I retorted less-forcefully than the first time. "Everything's fine now. I would like to go home with my family." Looking around to my surrounding family members, they all had pained expressions and… a hint of guilt? Edward's hand tightened around mine and I had the answer I was searching for. "… You're not going to let me leave, are you?" My father gripped my shoulders in apology before I even got confirmation on my random assumption.

"Very perceptive, Isabella; I can see that even in the past few hours you have recovered yourself quite a bit. But, no, I can't allow you to leave tonight."

"Why not? You said so yourself I've recovered."

"Not one-hundred percent, no, and perhaps only from this particular episode. Your psychosis still lingers and left untreated could be disastrous," he concluded. He so easily dismissed my leaving. It infuriated me.

"Oh, and other than attempted suicide, what could that be, huh? Why do you have such a problem with letting me leave? I'm not crazy; I shouldn't be here!" I yelled, I was losing my grip on my temper, but I couldn't condemn myself for it.

"Did you want me to tell you your diagnosis?" He coolly questioned. My little outburst hadn't even fazed him. Either he was treating me like I was just another crazy-patient, or he truly didn't care. Suddenly, instead of crystal-clear blue eyes, I saw cold, uncaring eyes. Instead of his naturally calm demeanor, I saw heartlessness.

"Yes. That's what I want," I stated just as coolly.

"As you wish," he replied, which reminded me of Wesley in _The Princess Bride_. He sort of looked like him too, plus a French accent and minus the Robin-Hood/pirate-type getup. I also liked Dr. Laurent a whole-lot less. He fiddled with a manila folder full of papers on his desk, opening it and found one of interest before taking it out and placing it on top of the rest. After regarding it for a moment or two, presumably re-reading his notes, he began to speak again. "Isabella Marie Swan, age 22, two attempted suicides by overdosing on prescription medications; the second resulting in an extensive three-week hospitalization, the first two of which were spent in a medically-induced coma. Isabella shows signs of severe fear of abandonment and separation anxiety. She also has acute delusions and hallucinations possibly pertaining to the extreme fear of abandonment. Unwillingness to accept help for her conditions and denies said conditions. Shows symptoms pertaining to Borderline Personality Disorder and Generalized Anxiety not otherwise specified. Isabella was institutionalized after the suicide attempts in the wake of the belief that her fiancé was killed in a crash. Attempted suicide a third time while in the institution by hoarding the pills she had been given and taking them all at once—Isabella, need I go on?" I sniffed back a few tears that lingered in my eyes, not realizing that I had started to cry, again. Edward rubbed small, reassuring circles with the pad of this thumb on the back of my hand.

"No. Dr. Soigner," I paused, swallowing back the pain of hearing all of that before continuing. "None of that is me except for the name, age, and suicide attempts. The rest of that you have gotten wrong. Edward's alive now. I'm not anxious over his death anymore. Before, I had been given wrong information. Do I need to apologize or something? I'm perfectly sane. This place, however—keeping me in here is enough to make a sane person crazy." I looked around the office to search for support in faces of my loved ones, but instead I found purposely-masked, apathetic faces. I was being thrown to the wolves of New Moon by the ones I loved the most.

"Isabella, although I do agree that here now is the most well-adjusted that I've seen you, an apology will not reverse your condition. So, no, _I _do not require any sort of an apology. Perhaps in a therapy session with your family you might wish to offer one then. You can't just stop being something that you are—you have to work through your issues. Until you do so, I cannot on good conscience release you. Dr. Cullen, here, agrees with me." Upon hearing his name spoken I turned my head to look at Carlisle and saw him visibly stiffen. My jaw clamped together at his mutinous actions.

"Bella," Carlisle tried to amend, "We only thought that a couple more days here, with intensive therapy and getting a stable foundation, would be beneficial to you."

"For the record, Bella," my Edward spoke while gazing directly into my eyes with a _please understand me_ look, "I disagree. I want you to come home _now_." Nodding, I showed my conviction and trust in his words.

"Edward, you can't possibly care for her in her condition while in yours," Esme interrupted. "You don't know what she was like… how empty her eyes got, how hopeless we all felt around her. She's not well, Eddie. Unless she goes to therapy, no amount of wishing will make her better." It wasn't until I heard Esme speak out against me that I even noticed the tension between her and my Edward. It had been apparent all evening in only Edward's eyes and body language. She, after all, was so thrilled that her _Eddie_ was home she couldn't even be upset that he wanted his fiancée home with him when she didn't.

"She is just fine—as fine as this sort of situation warrants! I'm _alive_ damn it and now she finally knows! Of course she didn't believe all of you when you told her I was fine at first—it wasn't because of her 'delusions'. Just think for a moment, if you will: even if I weren't alive, if I hadn't survived being hit by that car, what would you do to convince her life was worth living? You would still sing the same tune: he's fine, he'll be fine, and everything will be worked out soon. Traumatic events don't necessarily make a person saner. Fine, maybe she does need counseling; I'm certain we all do. She can still come home and get that. No wonder she has abandonment issues! You just want to abandon her here and make her someone else's problem. Well she's not a problem! She's my _fiancée,_ damn it!" Edward paused thoughtfully before continuing, "... What kind of man proposes and then leaves their fiancée for four months intentionally? I… I did abandon her and you can't make me do it again tonight!" Edward ranted so thoroughly, at that moment there was no way on earth that I could deny his love for me, even in my craziest hour. I felt so bad for the guilt he was feeling that I leaned over and kissed his cheek, showing that I loved him and it wasn't his fault. Once again, I was thankful for our own means of wordless communication.

"No, Eddie, no. She needs to be _here_." Esme cooed soothingly to her only son.

"…For at least a few days, Edward. They should make sure she's stable," Carlisle added on to his wife's statement.

"Bells," my dad spoke for the first time since arriving in Dr. Laurent's office, "You know we didn't abandon you here. I've been to visit every day. I _love _you… I just want my little girl to get better. If I had my way, you could leave right now… but that includes none of this have ever happening which is just not realistic sweetie." Charlie tried to soothe me which had been working up until he told me that because of everything that had happened I had to stay here.

"No. If you loved me, you'd want me to leave. How can a place full of the clinically and criminally insane make me _better? _These people here, influencing me and whatnot, will only harm me in the long run. I need to be home, safe, with my fiancé, the man that I would be willing to die for. How is that unstable?" I questioned.

"Isabella, are you trying to tell me that you are easily influenced?" Dr. Laurent tried to distract me.

"No! But they're not good company to keep."

"Either they will influence you to do bad things, or you can withstand them. Which is it?"

"Stop trying to play mind games with me 'Soigner. I shouldn't _be_ here!"

"Also in your file Isabella, it says mood instability. Right now you're not proving your point. I'm sorry, but all of this arguing and malnourishment—another reason to keep you in this hospital setting—must be making you exhausted, as is evident in your drooping eye lids. It's about time for your nightly meds as is. We can resume conversation in our session tomorrow. From now on with your new-found lucidity, in keeping with your wish to go home as soon as possible, I will try to meet with you every day. Now is the time for parting," he paused before outstretching his hand, "Thank you, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, for coming in. Mr. Swan, it was a pleasure seeing you as always—I'll be sure to contact Mr. Jenks with that information you requested. Edward, I'm so glad to have finally met you and am as thrilled as Bella that you are in fact alive and well," he said while shaking their hands. He was nothing if not respectful to those that paid the bills of his patients. At that moment I thought of him as a crook.

.::.

That night, parting with Edward had been just as painful, if not more, than before his flight to Paris. This time, though, he was leaving me in a place that I despised. Again, that night I cried myself to sleep just like I had the first night at New Moon. My head hurt as I tried to piece together everything that had happened that day. My world, previously turned upside down, had righted itself again. Although the moment I had seen Edward I thought that it had been a cure-all—a panacea of the Hell we had been living in—I was wrong because at the end of the night, I was still left here. I still had just as many questions as to what _exactly_ happened to Edward as I had at the beginning of my day. At least I knew that while I slept I wouldn't have the recurring nightmares of Edward's bloody sheet, or I hoped so.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! Busy week! Saw _Eclipse_-twice- and am madly in love with it which took up some  
of my writing time. Also! Just read _Inked_ by ARenee363-super good, about to start its sequel _Marked_. **

**Thanks for reading this chapter, once again! I don't know why it was so hard  
for me to finish this chapter, but it was. It took a few days of letting it simmer.  
This is my new pet project which is very close to my heart.**

**It doesn't really seem as though people really want to read this fic, so unless people express interest  
I'm just going to write it for myself. I think I posted this fic prematurely. **

**Love and thanks to all of you! Review and Rec!  
XO, FabulousiTyxXx **


	5. Resolve

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Twilight_ or its characters' names- they belong to Stephenie Meyers. I do, however, own this plot!

* * *

**Chapter 5: Resolve**

**E**dward stood before me, beautiful as always yet somber as he chanted _Bella, what have you done?_ Wiping my tear streaked cheeks with the back of my hand, I discovered that my tears were blood and I became horrified. He extended a white sheet towards me, presumably for me to clean up the mess that was my face. The moment the sheet left my face—-covered in my blood—it floated eerily across the distance between us. In an instant, it entwined itself around his neck in a noose-like fashion.

"Bella," he wheezed as the bloody sheet constricted his throat, "why are you killing me?" The sheet tightened and lifted Edward from the ground, his feet flailing.

"No!" I screeched, launching upright in my bed, waking from my nightmare.

The sheet I had seen on CNN that was covered in blood haunted me; it flapped around in the invisible breeze in my mind. It covered me as I slept and I unintentionally wrapped my hands in it as I tossed and turned unable to remove it from my dreams. I awoke countless times that first night since I mentally awoke after seeing Edward alive—shaking and sobbing muffled screams through the suffocating sheets. I had screamed my throat raw in desperation and yet no one had come to check on me. It was a sad commentary on how regular it was for a girl to scream in the middle of the night due to night terrors in this establishment. It was almost as unnerving as my dreams.

My restless night ended when Nurse Emily woke me at seven in the morning.

"Isabella? Did you want to take a shower before breakfast this morning?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

"Err," I groaned and sat up in my bed, releasing my strangle hold on my twisted-up sheets. "Do I ever?" I asked not-so-politely.

"Well, I just thought that maybe… since you wanted to prove that you're better…" she nearly stuttered. _Oh that's right_, I thought.

"Fine. Yeah, I'll take a shower. Oh—hey Emily? Do you know where my makeup is?"

"It's in the outer compartment of your suitcase. Didn't you look?"

"Oh, no not there, and… do you know where my, uhm, engagement ring is?" I picked at my cuticles, embarrassed for some reason that I needed to ask for it.

"Isabella, we don't usually allow such types of jewelry in the ward…"

"Emily! It's my _engagement_ ring! I'm trying for a sense of normalcy here and that's my normal!" I interrupted. "I mean, come on, how many girls have you had that are engaged? Probably none. Shit, I shouldn't _be_ here!" I moaned and covered my face in my hands.

"Calm down Isabella. Maybe you can ask Dr. Laurent, OK? Let's just get you into the shower before the OCD ladies use all of the warm water."

.::.

"Holy fuck, B! You're _at_ breakfast?" Tanya gasped, nearly spitting out her decaf coffee as I descended to the chair next to hers and across from Victoria's. At New Moon, caffeine was considered a drug. Most of the patients here didn't need any more stimulation, they hypothesized.

"Yeah, apparently. I'm, uh, back from the dead or something," I tried to smile, but it was all a little foreign to me still. It didn't feel as good as it did yesterday when Edward's presence was so fresh.

"Hmm," Victoria paused, "hopefully you'll stop looking constipated when you smile and more like you're happy, soon." She teased.

I muttered, "Bitch," under my breath.

"That's more like it!" They both cheered in unison. _Embarrassing, definitely embarrassing,_ I thought.

"Bella, all you are going to eat is half a grapefruit and a pancake? Jesus, fuck. You're eating less than Jane." Tanya shot a devilish look down our table to the petite, gaunt, short-haired blonde sitting with the other disordered eating girls. Jane was so malnourished, more so than me, that she had started sprouting this light peach-fuzz like hair all over her body. In group, we had learned that it was called lanugo and it was a disgusting sight to see.

"Shut up, Tanya," Jane called back from her perch. I eyed Jane's plate and saw only two grapes.

"You're looking a little fat today, Jane. I think you ate one carrot too-many yesterday."

"Fuck off Tanya. Just go suck-off another orderly and get fat off of his jizz that you so whore-ishly swallow," Jane oozed bitter resentment. She looked as though she was about to unravel right then and there.

"Aww, Janie. Did I… strike a nerve?" Tanya taunted, the corner of her lips ghosting a smile.

Just before the scene escalated Nurse Leah came over to stand behind Jane.

"Jane, I told you to go up and get an orange and a pancake. Do I need to tell Dr. Gerandy that you're not performing your behavior modification?" she softly threatened.

"Uh… no. It's just that my stomach is small. I don't need that much food…" Jane qualified, attempting to rationalize her petulance.

"Cut the crap Jane. Pancake. Orange. Now!" Nurse Leah was known for her blunt and forceful ways. I, however, responded better to Emily's tender approach.

"Fine!" Jane screeched, and shot up out of her chair toward the food line.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked, turning back to Tanya and Victoria in our own private discussion.

"B, you should have heard her in the shower this morning. She was making fun of your screams last night… I couldn't say anything then, but I couldn't miss my chance now," Tanya leveled.

"Wha-what? Are you fucking kidding me?" I gasped.

"Paha! Yeah! Hell, if she had been talking trash, I would have decked her right then and there! _I, _however_, _didhear your screams during the night," she giggled.

"You are truly a psycho," Victoria huffed, to which Tanya merely smiled her playful _no shit_ smile.

"Oh god," I sighed, "and you _wonder_ why I don't come to breakfast or spend more time with your crazy ass." I rolled my eyes.

"Bella… it's good to finally meet you," Tanya greeted in all seriousness and this time I actually smiled.

"I wish I could say the same…" I teased.

"So Bella, when do we get to meet that hottie fiancé of yours?" Victoria inquired, changing the subject.

The moment felt magical—almost as magical as the moment I realized Edward was still alive. Everything looked different now in the light of day after my awakening. I was acting more like my old self, or at least participating in playful banter. Breakfast passed as quickly as it came and before I became cognizant of it, Nurse Emily was escorting me to the nurses' station to take my morning cocktail of pills and have my vitals checked and then to group therapy. Apparently I was still considered a risk to myself so I was always escorted by a Nurse.

.::.

"Isabella, you're looking well today. Would you care to share why that might be?" Charlotte asked me as soon as everyone around the circle was settled. Dr. Charlotte Turnberry played the role of our group therapist and I usually ignored every insipid word she uttered. She was all about _feelings_ and relating to one-another. It was entirely unfeasible for Charlotte, Char as she liked us to call her, to assume that I could ever relate to such deviants as Jane or Bree the cutter.

"Uhm… I showered today," I gave my non-committal answer.

"Isabella, tsk tsk, you can do better than that," she chastised sweetly.

"Well… uhh… my fiancé is alive. Oh, and hopefully I'll be leaving New Moon today or tomorrow." Gasps, jealous squeaks and squeals sounded around the sharing circle.

"So, because he's alive you assume you can just leave with him?" Char pestered.

"Something like that."

"Who here has any opinions on what Isabella has shared?" she asked the group.

"I do," Lauren-—an anti-social bipolar—-hissed from across the circle. "_Isabella_ moped around here for a month in her own head, ignoring everyone else and having these random-fucking-psychotic episodes all the while _judging_ everyone except herself for being in here and she just expects because her delusions were proved false that she can just leave and skip off into the sunset with her beloved. I mean, _hello!_ The bitch tried to commit suicide _in here!_ She's a total nut-case screaming like she does in her sleep," she concluded. I wanted to rip all of her hair out and choke her with that dull light-brown mop she had on top of her head. Lauren was the most plain-looking person I had ever seen in my life. She had no intrinsic beauty or even any ugly, and she didn't know what hell it was like for me.

"What the fuck, Lo!" Tanya attacked as I opened my mouth to verbally combat Lauren's ridiculous rant. "You're just jealous that you can't make your issues go away. I mean, it must be really hard on mommy and daddy that you're a big fat dyke. That's why they sent you here right? Mr. and Mrs. Mallory couldn't handle a cunt-licker for a daughter? Back off Bella. She had real heartache."

"Ladies, ladies. This is not productive language. Use your feeling words. No attacking please: either of you," Char intervened.

"OK, maybe I should clarify. I believe that I should be allowed to leave because I got _better_. I wasn't living in a delusional world. It was entirely realistic to believe what CNN reported. I was put here because of my grief and now that I'm not grieving or going to hurt myself I should be able to go home!" I retorted back to the circle after everyone had calmed down from the outbursts of Lauren and Tanya.

"Isabella, now that you are not feeling like a danger to yourself, if you keep up this productive dialogue between us in Group and your private sessions with your therapist, you have every right to leave. Our goal here at New Moon is to help you get to that place. I'm sure your personal therapist will discuss this with you during one-on-ones today, but perhaps you should think about what your family wanted you to get out of being here, hmm? If I were you, I wouldn't be so quick to brush off this opportunity for real healing that you've been given by being put here during this difficult time in your life," Charlotte explained. It took every ounce of rebellion in me to not agree with every word she had said to me. Her tone was so soothing and somehow full of love for me. The way she worded her entire approach it almost was as if she truly could relate to me. Perhaps Char was just extremely good at empathy. Yes, that must be it…

"Thanks _Char_, but we'll just see. I really don't think I need to be here."

"As always, you are entitled to your own opinion Isabella," Charlotte paused. "Jane!" she called as she looked to Jane's spot a third of the way around the circle from my left, "how is your behavior modification going?" With that, thankfully the topic of _me_ was over for the rest of our group-rape, as Victoria liked to call it. Charlotte touched on many of the other patients' issues. Bree hadn't cut herself in three days, to which she earned applause from the other girls; Jane was eating almost 1,500 calories a day now—although Victoria and Tanya rolled their eyes in disbelief due to Jane's ever present lanugo; Jessica, one of the paranoid schizophrenics in the group, regaled us in an elaborate plot that the orderlies had against female patients—she was carried away screaming. Apparently Jessica had been off her meds for a couple of days because she thought she was being poisoned. It was the first group therapy session that I had ever been cognitively-present for and it was quite an odd experience, at best.

.::.

"Isabella, come in," Dr. Laurent called from the open door to his office. Upon my entering the room, he motioned for me to have a seat on any of his chairs. I opted for the most comfortable couch in the corner near the bay window that was situated behind the beautiful mahogany coffee table, and cautiously sat in it. Dr. Laurent sat opposite me in a plush armchair and stared at me intently with a curious expression. "You're looking quite fresh today, Isabella. It's nice to see you making an effort in your personal hygiene," he said by way of greeting.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment or a greeting?" I retorted.

"Hmm neither, I suppose. It was more of an observation. _Good afternoon_. How has your day been thus far?" Dr. Laurent's face was nearly unreadable, try as I may. He was being sardonic and I found it... unsettling? No. Perhaps I found it comforting in an odd way because it was so unlike the character I had built him up to be in my mind. In the new light of day, his previously cold and uncaring eyes sparkled foamy-blue again and he no longer seemed to be the monster I had pictured him as.

"Fine… _different_ I guess. Can we talk about me leaving?" I ventured.

"Of course. First, may I explain my actions last night?" he asked, actually asked. I nodded my approval before he continued. "Very well then: last night I thought it in poor judgment for you to leave that evening without—-at the very least—-a session in your therapy group and also with me and, of course, a good night's rest. The decision, however, for you to leave will always be in your rights to make but last night was the first time I had ever seen you _not _in a near catatonic or self-destructive state and it was within my authority to keep you here for the night. By the end of the day today, however, it will be in your authority to make that decision. Before you make any such decision, might I ask you to consider a few things?"

"Uhh… yeah. I mean, yes," I stuttered. The way he was treating me today was vastly different than he had—-or any health professional at New Moon-—in the past month. It was so enlightening that I actually agreed to hear-out his propositions.

"Isabella, while I no longer think that you are unquestionably a danger to yourself, you still need help. I believe that you can benefit from what we have to offer at New Moon. You are an aspiring chef, correct? Your culinary talents indicate that you are a creative person. Well, although we do not allow our patients to cook—too many dangers of course—I believe that art therapy may be advantageous to you as well as the current medication you are taking and also counseling. We know that you undeniably want to get back home to Edward as soon as possible and that is completely natural. Edward, however, is not even home himself yet."

"What?" I asked in shock. Edward and I hadn't even had a chance to discuss what was happening now that he was home.

"Yes, he is staying with his sister I believe, along with his parents. Edward still can't care for himself yet completely and is continuing his intense physical therapy now that he is back in Seattle. It will be a little while yet before Edward can care for himself. Isabella, you yourself can hardly care for your own wellbeing. You just started eating yesterday, and your nerves are still frazzled. Perhaps until you both are ready to be thriving independent individuals again, you would consider staying here and working through your mental and physical health while Edward gets the physical help he needs."

"You mean, you want me to _choose_ to stay here when I could be home with Edward?"

"See, Isabella: you're not thinking rationally, again. Edward isn't at _your_ home. Do you want to burden him and the rest of the Cullens while you are recuperating? You can't help him right now in your _physical_ state, not to mention your psychological state as well. Isabella, you can't even push his wheelchair more than a few feet. Try to process this without your emotions but with logic instead," Dr. Laurent sighed.

"But… but, nothing makes _sense_ without him!" I cried. I tried to do as he asked, after all he was treating me so decently compared to before, but I couldn't separate the decision from my desire to be with Edward.

"You're proving my point, Isabella. Think _rationally_ about what you just said. You are basically insinuating that even though you now know that your fiancé is alive you can't temporarily live without him in the same facility-—or home-—without falling apart, is that correct?"

"Well, I-—it's just been _so_ _long_ since we've been together."

"Isabella! You're not focusing. You're not thinking rationally. What you're indicating to me is that you don't feel like your life is worth it without him, like you don't know who you are without Edward. This is something you can work on. Do you want to be the absolute best that you can be for him, for yourself?"

"Well, yes! Of course I want to be the best I can be for him… what are you trying to say?" He was confusing me and I was starting to doubt my resolve to go home. Had I actually become nothing but a shell of a person that was temporarily filled with my love for Edward instead of my own substance? Right now I had no passion-—not even for cooking—only for Edward, but was it enough. Was Dr. Soigner right? Should I try to better myself completely, if not for myself, then for Edward? Maybe I was just a crazy person that was easily swayed or perhaps Dr. Laurent was the first person to approach my _condition,_ as everyone kept referring to, with my welfare in mind and what I truly wanted.

"Isabella, I think you already know what I'm trying to say. I think that you should try to stay here for a few days, if not a week or more, and attend your group sessions, our private sessions, and your new art therapy sessions so you can deal with these deep-seeded long persisting issues before you and Edward commit yourselves to each other permanently and take on the responsibility someday of other lives. _That_ is what I'm trying to say."

"Dr. Laurent, I—I don't know what I want to do. I feel so lost. I feel as though it's admitting defeat by staying here. I'm not crazy, I know I'm not… something's wrong with me," I paused as my head started to spin. I felt dizzy with this decision. Previously I had been a rational person but now, after everything, I wasn't sure if I trusted myself anymore. "Why can't I make this decision? It should be easy. I should say I want to go home… that's what a sane person would do…"

"No, Isabella, a sane person would weigh all of the options along with what is a responsible, _adult_ course of action to take. I think your conscience as gotten the better of your volatile-—pardon the expression-—emotions. You're thinking rationally, now. You're not in your dark place anymore, Isabella. It's OK to admit you need help. In my opinion, you've been needing to talk to someone and work through some things that you've repressed for a long time… there's no time like the present."

Repressing? What would I be repressing? Feelings of what? The only tough thing—other than this episode of almost losing Edward—I had ever dealt with was my parent's divorce and I had I had gotten through that just fine. Yes, it was hard on me and I was sad that my parents were no longer together but I had never let them see me upset: no one had, not even Edward. I had remembered being so mad at my dad for letting my mom leave like that with me. She left our happy family behind and I never felt the same. Again, in my mind, she left me to my own devices when she fell in love with Phil when I was 15. She chose him over me and that hurt enough for me to move all the way to dreary, wet Forks, Washington; I left her before she could leave me again. Living with Charlie was comforting but he wasn't around a lot between work and his fishing trips. It felt like everyone was always leaving me. Even Edward had left me for Paris—I practically forced him to go. What was I trying to prove? Why did I push him to go?... _Holy Shit!_ I _did_ have a fear of abandonment!

"Oh. My… god." I exhaled.

"Isabella?"

"I _cannot_ believe I'm about to say this, but… I think you're right. I _do_ have a fear of abandonment… real or imagined," and without my consent, my eyes started to leak tears of sorrow. I didn't know what my sorrow was for, but it was there all the same. "I'll stay for a little while I guess… but under one condition," I paused and waited for his nod of acknowledgement. "I want to be allowed to wear my engagement ring."

"I suppose I can agree to allow that. Isabella that was an incredible breakthrough you just had. I'm very proud of you… I knew you had it in you. We can conclude there for the day, if you'd like. I'll see you tomorrow," he decided.

"Bella. Call me Bella."

.::.

"_Bella!"_ Alice greeted on the other line. _"I'm so glad you're calling! I was going to take Edward to come see you after his physical therapy today. What time should I drop him off?"_

"Around 3:30, after my art therapy," I replied to my future sister-in-law and maid of honor.

_"Fabulous! That works out perfectly. He should be done by then."_ She cheered into the phone. Alice was always the same chipper person in virtually any conversation.

"Oh, and Alice… Dr. Laurent told me that I wasn't checked-in with an engagement ring. Bring that too. It's high time I start showing it off around this place."

_"Oh thank GOD!_ _I'm finally rubbing off on you!"_

.::.

While walking to the art room unaccompanied, a multitude of emotions coursed through my veins. Some new, some old, but mostly they were overwhelming. I was completely ecstatic that Dr. Laurent had moved me up to a level 2 from a level 1 patient which meant that I didn't have to be escorted everywhere and that I also didn't have to be locked in my room at night in-between nurses' checks. Freedom wasn't something I was used to at New Moon and the new-found phone privileges were a definite perk. The thought of staying here made me feel defeated and unsure of myself. My consuming love for Edward was ever present. Now, however, I felt the bubbling sense of anxiety because I was heading into the unknown; I didn't know when I'd be home with Edward again. Surrendering myself entirely to the care of the myriad of doctors, nurses and other staff, I proceeded forward with my treatment in the hopes of surfacing from this experience better for it than even before Edward had left for Paris.

.::.

* * *

**A/N:**** See! I'm still writing _The Air I Breathe!_ No need to worry!**

**Thanks so much for the reviews and favorites-they mean the world to me!  
I hope you are enjoying this little fic I've cooked up.**

**Review and Rec please! :o)**


	6. Artsy

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Twilight_ or its characters' names- those all belong to Stephenie Meyers, but this plot is all mine!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Artsy**

** "W**elcome to the art room, Isabella. I've been expecting you," a tall, muscular and tan man greeted me in his deep and inviting voice. He had dark features: nearly black eyes, long and silky raven colored hair that was tied in a ponytail by the nape of his neck. If I had to venture a guess I would have surmised that he was of Native American ancestry. What was this, _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_?I had never seen him around the halls of New Moon -—not that I was paying close attention before. He was not dressed like an orderly and didn't seem to resemble any of the other psychologists I had seen. Certainly he wasn't a _patient_. Curiosity picked at the edges of my consciousness to know who this was. It was then that I saw his nametag-—_Jacob Black_, it read. Scanning the room, I tried to get a feel for it. Although it was an art room, it was oddly and sparingly filled with pieces of art—-perhaps maybe only a handful of paintings and drawings were hung on the very pale chartreuse walls and none of it looked like crazy people had done them.

"I'm Jacob Black, New Moon's resident art therapist. I'm so pleased you're joining us today; Dr. Soigner informs me that you'll be spending your activity periods with us for the remainder of your stay here," he said as he outstretched his hand in greeting. I shook it in return and cleared my throat. The action, like so many other normal social interactions, felt foreign to me. Eyeing him, I sized him up. He could pass as attractive… in fact; he was quite beautiful in an earthy, artistic sort of way.

"Erm, hi. Yeah, I guess I'm supposed to be in here," I lamely replied.

"You can call me Jake. Follow me; I'll give you a mini-tour." Jacob Black led me around the decently-sized art room. The middle areas of the room were filled with many work tables with other patients scattered about among them. In the very center was a table draped in white linen and nothing else. Along the length of the largest wall were many cabinets filled with varying supplies, Jacob informed me. Each art-patient (that's how he liked to distinguish us from the non-art therapy patients) was assigned a locker for them to store their personal supplies-—usually provided by the patient's family—-and works of art. To me, they seemed more like oversized cubbies. They were located on the wall opposite of the supply cabinets along with the utility sink.

"The art room is open, and subsequently art-therapy occurs, Monday through Saturday. Sunday is my day off," he smiled as if it was something I cared to know. Whatever he did when I wasn't with him in art therapy was of no consequence to me; I didn't care so he could take his playful smiles and keep them to himself. Jacob led me to an empty work table by the corner of the room near the windows to the outside. The sun lazily shown through the thick Seattle clouds and filtered through the dusty sills onto the table we occupied. While gazing through the dirty window, I was suddenly aware that it had been quite a length of time since I had felt the sun on my face-—even covered in clouds—-and the wind through my hair. I longed to be outside once again.

"So, Isabella what are you in for, if you don't mind me asking," Jacob blurted, distracting me from my daydreaming.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, it aids in me knowing how to help you if I know where you're coming from so I can get you to where you're going," he stated.

"Like, my diagnosis?" I tested. I felt my eyebrows knit in confusion. Truly, I was unsure of what he wanted me to say to him.

"Not necessarily. I mean, what happened in your life to get you _here_ at New Moon. All Dr. Soigner said was that you've been here for a month, you possess creative qualities, and that your ultimate desire is to leave very soon. He's not much of a talker if you ask me," he joked in a deep, booming sort of laugh. His humor was unnecessary in my eyes. I just wanted to do this artsy-fartsy bullshit and go home. "I'm sorry," he amended seeing my confusion, "it's just that usually I can get a read on people when they show up at the art room without them having to go into great detail right away about what's going on in their life but with you it's all a mystery. I can't get a read on you-—you're a tricky one, Isabella."

"Uhm, OK. Well… two months ago I saw a report on CNN that said my fiancé was dead. I, uh, love him so much and it hurt so badly that I couldn't live without him… so I, uh, swallowed a bottle of valium I was supposed to take for the plane ride to go see him in Paris. A week later, with no news of his body, I tried again and ended up in a coma for a couple weeks," I recalled, staring intently out at the clouds covering the sun. "That really pissed my family off because when I awoke, I was greeted with admittance forms for New Moon Psychiatric Facility. A week later I ended up here and was drugged up with quite a cocktail of psychotropic drugs. About a week after my admittance, I tried to kill myself again and was in a haze ever since. Yesterday my fiancé showed up with all of my family and proved to me that CNN had made a mistake which really woke me up. I mean, I'm back to my old self. People grieve differently, right?… So, now I'm just trying to show everyone that I'm sane so I can get out. Any questions?" I huffed. Having to recall the past two months of my life felt quite peculiar. Even to my own ears I sounded a little insane. Perhaps I went a little overkill on the honesty thing.

"Wow…," Jacob said after a few moments of charged silence. His face was inscrutable though I tried to decipher what was going through his mind. "OK… well that sounds like a lot to deal with," he attempted. I had succeeded in momentarily stunning him from speech. Unexpectedly, embarrassment flooded my cheeks in a warm, uncomfortable blush. _Of course_ I had to ruin my chances of Jacob thinking me sane ten minutes into him meeting me. _I have _got _to get a grip on myself, and fast!_ I mentally chastised.

"Right, well uh… since it's your first day in the art room, I'll just give you a sheet of paper and you can find your own medium to work with. Just… create whatever comes to mind. It's best if you focus on your thoughts and not what your hands are doing," he recovered. Abruptly, he left my side and I was alone again with my thoughts—-slightly nutty and unclear. Walking over to the cupboards, I noticed that all of the other patients were angled so they were surrounding the center table. As I looked from their collectively different pieces I started to notice something: although they all had the white table in their piece, the things upon it were all vastly different. One had a ragdoll, another had an alien-looking thing, and a third had a spoon. _Crazy people_, internally I scoffed, _seeing things that aren't there._

Scanning through the many cabinets full of different materials, I tried to decide what tools I wanted to use. My hand ghosted over a wooden box, grainy and sanded smooth to the touch. It was as if it was calling to me so I opened it to find what was inside: charcoal pieces and chalk. They would do. _My thoughts. He said stick with my thoughts_, I pondered. _What_ thoughts! Picking up a charcoal piece gingerly, I tested its feel in my hand. Not too foreign, oddly enough. I tried to think about something to draw. The only thing my mind kept coming to was that after this art nonsense I was going to be seeing Edward again. My hand started to move of its own accord as I drifted through different daydreams of Edward and myself.

"Who's that?" Jacob interrupted. I stared down at the paper in front of me that had magically been filled with the most beautiful sight: Edward. It was as if mere seconds had passed by since I sat down to my clean sheet in front of me. The only thing I was aware of, previously, had been the image of Edward and me at a little bistro in Paris where we would have shared a romantic French meal for two.

"Oh, uhm, that's my fiancé," I replied once I had become sentient of the present happenings around me.

"Why is he shaded so darkly… and looking up to the viewer?"

"Well, I was sort of picturing him at a specific moment…" I defended as soon as I realized what I had drawn.

"Which one would that be?"

"When he proposed. We were in this meadow at night filled with ridiculous amounts of twinkling candles and he proposed in the doorway of our would-be home," I remembered aloud, "It was the happiest moment of my life." Jake was quiet for a moment, in thought no doubt.

"Hmm. Very interesting."

"How so?"

"Once again Isabella, you fail to behave like a typical patient I see here."

"Well what is _that_ supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"Usually when a patient is given free-range over what they can create they depict something dark, depressing, and slightly confusing—-especially with such a suicidal background as yours. Instead, you draw the happiest moment of your life, and rather well might I add," he explained. _Did he just compliment me? _"You're very talented as it seems." _Yes, he did._

"I, uh, took art in high school. But you said yourself that he was shaded darkly…"

"Yes, I did, but you just explained to me that the image is at night which makes this drawing of yours quite realistic," Jake paused and looked at me, staring deeply into my eyes. It was a little unnerving and yet familiar all the same. "You are going to be a pleasure to unravel."

"What?" I gasped. It sounded so sexual, but his composure made it seem purely professional.

"Your mind, the workings of your mind will be very interesting to unravel and understand," he offered. His face was neutral, not giving away any emotion or an insight to his thoughts.

"Ohhkayyy…" Truly I was at a loss for words.

"I'll show you your locker where you can put that drawing and then you can clean up and go, alright?" He smiled.

"Sure, sure. Oh! Uhm, the other patients, I noticed that all of them had drawn or painted something different than what was there on that table… is that typical of crazy people?"

"Isabella, I wouldn't say that they're crazy people, otherwise you might as well call yourself crazy. Their assignment, however, was to draw an object on the table that most represented themselves at this moment in their lives. I would hope that they didn't just draw an empty table," he joked. There was that smile again, like the sun shone through his teeth—-his big pearly-whites. It comforted me in a way that nothing else had at New Moon. _Who imagines themselves as a spoon!_ I though, remembering one of the paintings I saw earlier.

"Right, and every sane person envisions themselves as a _spoon_," I called to Jake as I started to put away the supplies I had used. After the spot I had occupied was clear of everything except my drawing, Jacob spoke again.

"I'll show you to your locker now. Here, put your drawing inside," Jacob instructed as he pointed to my personal cubby.

"But, I wanted to hang it in my room… I don't have any pictures of Edward or my family," I begged. _Why wouldn't I be allowed to keep my own drawing in my room? _ This place had odd rules.

"Sorry, but it needs to stay here for at least a few days. I'd like to get to know your work better before I let you gallop off with it," he tried to smile comfortingly. It didn't work because I left feeling quite frustrated.

.::.

As I walked alone through the halls mulling over my day so far, I felt utterly exhausted. It had been the most activity in which I had participated in two months. Although I was brimming with excitement to see Edward, I really wished I could have napped first so as not to spoil the moment with drooping eyelids, the inability to pay attention, or something of the sort. Rounding the corner to the corridor of bedrooms, and feeling very pleased with myself for remembering my way around the facility, Nurse Emily stopped me.

"Isabella, your visitor is here," she called pleasantly. "He's in the visitor's room, but you're welcome to go wherever you desire in the ward."

"Oh, OK; thanks Emily," I returned her smile.

With as much energy as I could muster, I loped off to the room we had all gathered in yesterday. Apparently I was the only one with visitors as of late. As I approached the doorway that separated me from Edward, I began to feel his presence; it was a slow tingling sensation in my skin that spiraled lazily to my gut and below. The closer I went to the door the more intense it became until suddenly it was overpowering when I saw him through the open doorframe. All the air in my lungs whooshed out when I was awestruck again by his ceaseless beauty. Practically skipping forward, I wrapped my arms around him and breathed him in.

"Edward," I said as I exhaled. He smelled divine, just like sun-intensified honey and musk.

"Hello, love," he greeted and kissed the top of my hair. I had practically thrown myself on him exuberantly and he still was as calm as ever. I reverently kissed the scar that now occupied his face and lowered my head to rest against him so as to listen to his heartbeat: proof he was alive. "I have something for you," he offered. Lifting my head from his chest, I leaned back to look at him in the eyes, his breathtakingly green eyes. I couldn't help but smile.

"Oh? What would that be? You know I don't like presents…"

"I believe this belongs to you," he ignored my question while fishing in his pocket and held out a black velvet box. Opening it, he flashed the diamond ring at me. I held out my left hand and he placed it on my now-bony third finger. It sagged a little, but nothing that a few 1,500 calorie meals couldn't fix.

"My engagement ring!" I cooed, never breaking eye contact. It meant so much more to me that he brought it and placed it on my finger again instead of Alice giving it to me. I was thankful that she, most likely, had orchestrated it so. "Thank you," I said with a kiss; it was sweet and innocent. Just when I was about to deepen it, a yawn started to overpower me. Sheepishly, I looked at him again, embarrassed with my fatigue.

"Don't be embarrassed Bella," he chastised, reading me all too well. "I'm tired too. Physical therapy was daunting today. Would it be alright if we took a little nap? I haven't slept well in about five months."

"Me neither," I conceded. This time, after eating two meals previous to my wheelchair pushing attempts, I was able to manage the task much better. Edward helped out a bit by getting the wheels started, but I was pleased with my progress none-the-less. Once in my room, concern over how Edward was going to get into my bed crossed my mind. Using his strengthened arms, he pushed himself out of the wheelchair and into my bed using a technique he learned in physical therapy and my worry was proved useless. When he was settled in bed I climbed in next to him, molding my body to his and his arm snaked around my palpably thinner waist. I thought I had heard him mutter _so thin_, but my exhaustion could have made me imagine that. Before we drifted off to sleep, I remembered how precious our little time together was. "Just… forty-five minutes… set the alarm—-no longer," I instructed just as I lost consciousness. For the first time in a long time, I slept in a peaceful manner without nightmares of hauntingly bloody sheets.

.::.

I awoke some time later to silky-soft caresses on my cheeks. "Mmm," I croaked as I became more sentient. I could feel Edward's warm embrace still spooning me: it was delightful and I had missed it so.

"Truly I cannot convey to you how _much _I have missed that little voice you use when you are sleep talking," Edward greeted. Opening my eyes, I found us lying in the same position we had fallen asleep in. Our eyes met and I felt at home again. It was as if no time at all had passed, like we had just woken up in our large bed on a Sunday morning: refusing to leave it all day. We passed a few moments simply gazing at each other, both of us too aware of how much we had missed _this_.

"That was the best sleep I've had in god knows how long," I commented.

"You have no idea." We sat in quiet for a few minutes while Edward played with my hair and continued to stroke spirally patterns on the skin of my cheeks again.

"When do you get to go home?" I bravely asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"I should ask you the same thing," he retorted, his face turning into a faint scowl. _Damn it! Alice told him! _I mentally panicked.

"I asked you first…"

He sighed before answering. "In a couple weeks, I guess. My physical therapist wants to make sure the apartment is … accessible, and that I'm ready enough to potentially live on my own." As he spoke the last sentence, his eyes drifted to elsewhere in the room. An emotion I couldn't put my finger on clouded his usually brilliant eyes. "I want _us_ to go home."

My throat caught as I pondered my response and my face flushed crimson in anguish. "I do too," I spoke finally, just as the tears cascaded over the rims of my eyes and down my cheeks.

"_Do_ you? You decided to stay here of your own accord… perhaps you're suffering from Stockholm syndrome?" Edward's tone was heartbreaking. It was angry and resentful yet sad and sarcastic. Maybe I try to see the best in people, but there also seemed to be a touch of understanding there as well.

"I just feel as though… I don't know; there's unfinished business here. Dr. Laurent said something that sort of _clicked_ with me," I reasoned.

"He tried to convince you that you've lost your mind and you _believed _him! Well then maybe you _are_ insane after all," he spat.

"Take that back! How dare you!" I screamed as I pushed away from him. Hearing those words come from Edward's lips just about shattered what little sanity I had been able to muster after thinking that he was dead for two months. Involuntarily, I began to shake.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Bella, I didn't mean it. Babe, you know I didn't. I'm just frustrated with… _everything_: I can't walk, you're in here, we've been apart for ages, and all I want to do is be home with you in _our_ bed again but everyone seems to be against us! My mother is resolute that I stay at Alice's place while she and my father stay on and off until I can '_care_' for myself. Dr. Soigner and my father along with Esme want to keep you in here. Who knows what Charlie's thinking… It's just so _much_. We should be planning our graduation parties and our wedding… not how to get me to walk again and you out of the loony bin!" Edward ranted as he tried to hold me tight against him. It was the first time he had truly shown his emotions about everything that had occurred. Granted it was only the second time I'd seen him, but it was still shocking and yet somewhat relieving.

"I—-I… something is _wrong_ with me Edward and I don't know _what_… that's why I decided to stay. Esme was so sure that this is where I should be, and Dr. Laurent said that I would be a burden to you all, that you're not even at our home yet. I'm so unsure all the time, I feel so lost. You heard what he said about my so-called 'abandonment issues'… well they're _real_. I have them. Didn't you ever wonder why I was so quick to shove you off to Europe? I was afraid that if I didn't send you away, you'd eventually leave me on your own. That is just _so_ messed up!" I sobbed into his chest, muffling my loud wails. He held me close, no matter how ridiculous I sounded. Edward stroked my hair comfortingly, kissing my forehead every so often until my sobs quieted enough for him to speak, holding me all the while.

"Bella my love, it's not your fault I got hit by the car."

"Isn't it though?" I bawled as guilt washed over me. For the first time since the news of his accident, I recognized part of the anguish I had been feeling: guilt. I had practically forced him to go to Paris. Perhaps I was blaming myself all along for his accident.

"Not at all, Love."

"I convinced you to go to Paris! If I wasn't just _so _completely messed up with my issues that I didn't even know I had, you would still be walking and I would be anywhere else but here as long as I was with you. We would have had Paris _together_ or something equally as great as that… I'm so sorry, Edward," I sobbed again. My body shook with desperation. I was desperate for him to understand and almost for him to blame me for this; after all I had felt so responsible.

"That is entirely the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say! I _wanted _to go to Paris; I just wanted you to come too. Everyone has issues, Bella. It's not your fault, love," he comforted. Edward tried to convince me that I was blameless but I just couldn't hear it. Now that I knew why I had all but sent in his application to the Sorbonne, I couldn't help but feel responsible for our current predicament. If only Renee had sent me to see a shrink when I was younger like most parents would have when they get a divorce. _No_, _do not blame other people for your own shortcomings!_ _It is _not_ mom's fault_, my inner-self chastised. He held me until my sobs had quieted.

"I'm sorry," I rasped once I had contained myself. "I've been really emotional these past two days."

"It's entirely understandable. Haven't we all?"

"I guess…What time is it?"

"Five"

"Hmm… dinner is in a half-hour. Are you staying?" I wondered.

"Unfortunately not, Esme wants to take the family out to dinner. Charlie's coming after dinner, so you won't be here alone for long," he regretfully told me.

Edward and I lay in bed for the remainder of the half hour, talking and trying to enjoy our time together. Alice came and collected Edward, much to his and my disappointment. She was bouncy and energetic—-happy as ever to see me-—while he and I were sullen and depressed. Quite a pair, he and I made. Dinner came and went without much goings on. The typical shit went down: Tanya pestering another patient; Victoria and I pretending we had nothing to do with it and so on. Much to my surprise neither Victoria nor Tanya had asked about my day. Charlie's visit went better than any of his previous visits and I could tell he wasn't afraid to leave me at the end like he had previously been. Apparently my progress within the past twenty-four hours was comforting to my family. At least I had _that_ going for me.

After Charlie's visit, while I was thinking about Victoria and Tanya and the dynamics of our friendship, it finally dawned on me why I had chosen them out of all of the crazy-ass bitches they had filtering through New Moon: they were the mental institution version of Alice and Rosalie. Victoria had Alice's sweetness, optimism, and boundless girly energy while Tanya had Rosalie's beauty, brass balls, and say-anything type attitude. Rosalie, however, was not a sociopath and little Alice couldn't even kill a fly. Nostalgia for the days when the three of us were inseparable overtook me and my thoughts. For the first time, I actually thought of Rosalie. _Rosie! I should call her, _I reminded myself. I did just that, taking full advantage of my new phone privileges.

As I sat in one of the booths outside the nurses' station, the phone rang twice before Emmett picked up the phone at the apartment he and Rosalie shared.

"_Hello?"_ he answered.

"Hey Em! It's Bella."

"_Holy-fucking-christ_! _They let you use the phone now! This is fantastic!"_

"Well I wanted to take advantage of it. Is Rose there? I realized today that I've been neglecting her severely and I _must_ remedy that!" I enthusiastically explained. A little knot of anxiety wound itself up in my gut-—the prospect of facing Rosalie one-on-one, even on the phone, made me nervous for an inexplicable reason.

_"Yeah, I'll get her for you… in a minute. Can I talk to you really quickly while she's in the next room?" _He spoke softly into the phone.

"Uhm, sure Emmett. I've missed you too."

"_Aw thanks Belly, but that's not what I wanted to talk about. Uh… OK so this is a little bit of a sore subject around all of us-—-as I'm sure you well-know—-but Rosie is taking all of this _really_ hard, harder than the rest of us. You know why, right?"_ Emmett cryptically spoke into the phone.

"It's escaping me. Maybe you should just say so because my mind has been a bit of a mess lately." My heart began pounding erratically in anticipation for what Emmett was about to say next.

_"Do you remember how her mother died? She killed herself Bella, when Rose was in high school. It was after her parents split up."_ My stomach plummeted to my feet and I was sure my skin was positively green with nausea.

"Oh my god, I completely forgot about Mrs. Hale," I admitted. I flashed back in my mind to when Rosalie had told me, the look of pain and heartbreak on her face so raw. It was the most exposed I had seen Rosalie _ever_ I had been moved to tears alongside her and Alice as the three of us held each other. Again, I flashed to another time when Jasper—-who had gone to high school with Rose-—told me what she was like _after_. He had said that it was hard to look her in the eye without wanting to cry. Jasper had also told me about how the whole school had signed a no-suicide contract after an assembly in order to support Rosalie and her younger brother. No _wonder_ Rosalie couldn't bear to be in the same room as me; I had brought her back to the worst time in her life. I had been a _terrible_ friend. For the second time today, overwhelming guilt overtook me. "I'm so sorry Emmett," I said in a small voice. I was too embarrassed to say anything else.

_"Well, you should be. I don't know if I should let you talk to her right now…"_ He thought aloud.

"Please Emmett? I'm better now. I just want to make things right," I pleaded. It was bullshit of course, because as much as I had thought that I was now better the more I was discovering how unwell I actually was.

_"Fine, but she can't be held responsible for what she says. She's reliving hell and then some, so you better be nice."_ I had never had Emmett talk to me that way _ever_ and it scared the living shit out of me. He was so protective over Rosalie; it reminded me of how Edward always was with me. In the background, I could hear the rustling of the changeover taking place with the phone.

_"You're so pathetic, and a coward_," Rosalie hissed to me before the phone went dead.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Uh-oh, a pissed-off Rosalie is NEVER a good thing! ;o)  
Thanks for reading and reviewing my little fic.  
****Reviews and Recs make me super happy!**

**Let me know what you think!**

**-FabulousiTyxXx-**


	7. Escape

**Author's Note**: **Hello all. It's been a while. I was in a car accident last month at the start of another semester at college... it traumatized me a bit, but I'm back will full force! Don't worry: both TAIB and DID will continue to be written... so enjoy:**

******Disclaimer**: I do not own the Twilight characters, settings, or original plot-that belongs to Stephenie Meyers... I do however own this one ;o).

* * *

**Chapter 7: Escape**

** I**mmediately I redialed their apartment, hoping against hope that they wouldn't ignore my call. I knew better than to hope but at the moment it was all I had.

_"Bella?" _Emmett answered.

"Yeah, It's me," I sheepishly replied.

_"I'm sorry I scolded you earlier. It's not helpful and I'm really not upset with you."_

"It's OK, Emmet."

_ "No, Bella, it's not. I was an ass. There's just a lot going on right now. Rosie is a mess and I took it out on you. Bella, I love you and want you to get better. I'm sorry that Rosie doesn't want to talk to you right now… another time would be better."_ His demeanor was completely opposite from Rosalie's. I couldn't blame her. If I had been in her place I probably would have reacted similarly. OK well, maybe not. It's impossible to know.

"Yeah, sure Emmett. That's fine. I'm sorry I upset her… tell her that OK?" I attempted.

_"Of course I will. I'm sorry about everything, Bella I am. But right now my woman needs me. Don't let this harm your recovery OK? We want you better. I'll try to come visit soon. Bye Bella,"_ he said by way of goodbye.

"Bye," I replied just before he hung up. I had _royally_ fucked everything up and not just with Rosalie: I was responsible for Edward's crash, Charlie's probable soon-to-be poverty over keeping me in a place like this, and possibly even my parent's divorce. Single-handedly, I had torn my family and friends apart with my own selfish stupidity on many occasions. I knew then that this guilt I had started to feel would _never_ go away. Fighting was foreign to me, it always had been.

Rosalie and I had never been in a fight in the three years of our friendship. Although Alice was like the sister I never had, Rosalie was my best friend. There wasn't a secret I hadn't shared with her—-or Alice. I remember the day so clearly when I had met her and Jasper in bio 101, a general education course that the three of us undecided majors had coincidentally signed up for. In high school Edward and I usually sat in the back row of every class we had together so we could hold hands or whisper without being disruptive to the class, and the habit stuck in all my other classes. As my first class in college, I wanted to do well so against my usual habits, I decided to sit in the front row.

Upon entering the lecture hall-like room fairly early, I saw an empty seat next to a pair of gorgeous blondes in the front row, which was the only thing they had in common: blonde hair. The girl had honey-brown eyes and was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. Her features were near perfection as was her lithe dancer-like physique. The guy was lanky with appropriate definition-—one of those surfer-looking beachy guys with shaggy hair and blue eyes complete with a hemp necklace. As they were making quiet conversation, obviously having known each other previous to this class, I sat down next to the girl and tried not to draw attention to myself. I was nervous and bummed that my first college class wasn't with Edward. It was bad enough that our dorm rooms were several floors apart. Breaking me from my day dreams as I tried to organize myself before class, the girl leaned over and spoke to me.

"Have you ever had professor Banner before?" she asked, as if we already knew each other.

"Uhm, no… I'm a freshman. Have you?" I replied, dumb-founded. She laughed politely as she responded.

"No, I'm a freshman too. So is Jasper!"

"Oh, uhm, cool."

"What's your major?" she asked boldly.

"I'm undecided."

"Wow, us too!" she smiled. I looked at the both of them and they seemed to be very comfortable with one another. _Perhaps they're dating?_ I had thought. "I'm Rosalie Hale, by the way, and this is Jasper Whitlock," she spoke for them again, further proving my theory.

"I'm Bella Swan."

"Ooh, pretty name," Rosalie cooed. "We went to high school together, Jasper and I, near Leavenworth," she explained.

"So did my boyfriend and I! We're from Forks, near Port Angeles." As soon as I said that Rosalie erupted into a raucous fit of giggles.

"Oh, we're not dating!" she explained once she had regained composure.

"We've just known each other for a while. It's always nice to see a friendly face in class," Jasper spoke, for the first time. He had a little bit of a Southern accent of some sort… from Texas, maybe?

"Oh, sorry." My face flushed. "So, when did you guys meet?" I said, trying to act nonchalant.

"When I moved from Texas-—" Oh I was _so_ right on the money "—-in the middle of sophomore year," Jasper answered. After that, the three of us chit-chatted until Professor Banner walked in. We all had hit it off so well that I invited the two of them to have lunch with Edward and myself at the cafeteria. The four of us became instant friends and created our own little clique amongst the rest of the freshmen class. Upon getting to know Rosalie, I learned that she was on the dance team. A few weeks after initially meeting her, she took me to a football/dance team kegger where we both met Emmett. At first I had been intimidated by his brutish looking muscles and overly confidant football player attitude, but not Rosalie. She had him wrapped around her little finger by the end of that first party. It wasn't long after that, that he joined our group, head over heels for our Rosalie. The next year when Alice came to University of Washington, she joined our group as well and fell for Jasper completely as he did for her. Although they had opposite personalities-—hers loud and vivacious where his was quiet and mellow-—they grew to love each other very much.

.::.

Rosalie stared at me with such contempt in her eyes. It was as if at any moment lasers would shoot out of them and burrow their way into my skin, searing away the flesh from bone and into my core. Suddenly, a wicked smile crept from the corner of her lips, slowly igniting her face in the most devilish look I had ever seen. It was then that I noticed she held something behind her back in secret.

"You wanted to die, Bella, and yet you failed," she eerily paused, "I can fix your mistake. It's all your fault! Everything is your _fault_" she screeched as she lunged at me, her fingers murderously entwined themselves around my neck, choking out my sputtering apologies. From behind her back, she produced a bloody sheet and tied it in a noose-like fashion, cinching it tightly where her fingers had previously been. I tried to scream apologies and pleas to spare me, but it all came out as constricted gurgles. In a flash she had tied the other end of the sheet around the ceiling beam above us, standing me on a chair. "Any last words, 'Swan?" She offered darkly before kicking the chair out from under me.

Falling, presumably to my death, I tried to scream.

"I'm Sorry!" my hoarse voice screeched as I thudded on the floor. Opening my eyes, the pale light of the Seattle morning filled my vision as well as the stark white walls of my room at New Moon. Out of all my crazy fucked up dreams I had so far at New Moon, this one took the cake. Tears poured from my eyes like the damn Niagara Falls, causing my body to violently shake. Maybe it was the thud my body made on the floor when I fell out of bed, or perhaps this time I was truly making too much noise for a normal patient, but it seemed as though Nurse Emily materialized instantly at my side. As I rocked myself forward and back, my arms curled around my knees, and she tried to embrace me in a hug.

"It's not your fault, Isabella," Emily cooed. Apparently I had been whispering _it's my fault_ aloud. I wasn't sure what about my dream upset me the most, Rosalie's vengeful anger or the bloody sheet's reappearance. I leaned into Emily, appreciating the comfort. "It was just a dream, sweetheart, just a dream." Stroking my hair while my head rested in her lap, Emily sat with me until I quieted myself. "There, much better," she said to me as I finally sat up.

"I can't take these dreams anymore," I admitted, exhaling loudly.

"We can see if Dr. Soigner could prescribe some sleeping pills for you. They might help take the edge off."

"NO!" I screamed almost immediately, startling Nurse Emily. "No," I corrected myself in a calmer tone, "I don't want any more drugs… but, I would like to see Laurent as soon as possible."

"You have an appointment after breakfast."

"I don't want to stay through breakfast," I retorted as I stood myself up.

"Isabella, you decided to stay. Are you giving up on your treatment?" She asked while joining me off of the floor.

"No. I just want to get out of New Moon… I can be treated anywhere," I rationalized.

"Fine, but to prove that you're behaving reasonably I must insist that you shower, put yourself together, go to breakfast, and then discuss this with Dr. Laurent," Emily said after a few moments of contemplation. Everyone in this damn institution didn't want to see me leave. Why? …There must be some other reason of theirs to keep me here other than risk of suicide. _What aren't the telling me? _I thought.

"Fine. I suppose I can stick it out a few more hours…" I conceded. Perhaps if I seemed like a willing participant in their fucked-up game, I would get the answers I was now searching for.

.::.

"You're getting out!" Tanya gasped.

"Lucky bitch," Victoria muttered, not entirely meant for my ears.

"Well… that's what I'm telling him in... oh, fifteen minutes," I replied while moving around the eggs on my plate with my fork.

"So, because you decide to leave, you're just gonna do it? Didn't you decide to stay yesterday?" Victoria questioned. Oddly enough, she didn't seem as excited for me as Tanya, in her bizarre way, did.

"Yea… and the dreams have gotten worse. I think I'll be able to recover more fully at home…" I reasoned.

"Damn girl, why would you ever want to leave this place? The people here are just _too _much fun to fuck with!" Tanya gushed.

"Not everyone is as fucked up as you, Tanya," Victoria commented while staring at her own plate full of untouched eggs. The three of us continued to pick at our food, occasionally taking a bite, for a few more minutes until Tanya decided to get up and bother Jane a few tables over.

After Tanya was out of earshot, I turned to Victoria. "Vicky, are you upset with me?"

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked while composing her face in a falsified pleasant expression.

"That, right there. What is with that?"

"Well, shit Bella. You've been here the least amount of time out of anyone I've ever cared about here and you're the first to leave. I should be the one leaving! I've been here the longest… it's all James' _fucking fault!_" Victoria was becoming hysterical. Her voice cracked as the crying started. Maybe I wasn't the best person to comfort her-—having been lacking the will for human connection for the past couple months-—but I was the only person she had at that moment. Awkwardly, I draped my thin, pale arm around her shoulders and lightly rubbed comforting circles. The gesture only lasted mere seconds before Victoria spiraled further into her breakdown. "Don't _touch_ me! James, you sick fuck! Get your hands off me! TOUCH ME AGAIN AND I'LL KILL YOU!" She screamed so loudly that New Moon's entire cafeteria turned in our direction. Orderlies swooped in before I even knew what was happening, all the while Victoria screamed during her breakdown. I had never seen Victoria act like a psych patient, and the whole scene was very unnerving.

Guilt must have been my new dominant emotion because yet again, it overwhelmed me. I felt like a cancer, one that made the people around me sick with it. I was an infection, at least that's what it felt like at that moment. Leaving the cafeteria, I decided that Dr. Laurent could bear to see me ten minutes early. I was, after all, his first patient of the day. Barging into his office, I caught him by surprise.

"Isabella! Anxious to see me?" He greeted cheerfully.

"Something like that," I replied while plopping down in the leather chair across from his at his desk. "Listen Laurent, I know you think it's best for me to stay here, but I just can't. The dreams aren't getting any better and I believe it's partially due to my discomfort at being here. I can receive treatment anywhere and it doesn't even have to be in-patient. There is no logical reason as to why you're trying to keep me here, well at least not one that you've told me. So, out with it; why keep me here? I'm perfectly sane and should be allowed to leave. Why try convincing me to stay?" I felt like one of those powerful business women on a Lifetime movie, going to her boss and demanding her just promotion.

Dr. Soigner's face beheld utter shock. He also looked as though I had just caught him with his hand in a damn cookie jar before dinner. My instincts were dead-on—-another justification that I was perfectly fine to go home. It took a few moments of him collecting his thoughts and re-adjusting his face before he addressed my accusations.

"Isabella, naturally I don't have any clue as to what you are suggesting," he charmed in his French accent. _That bastard_, I mentally cursed before he continued. "Perhaps you're now experiencing some paranoia… hmm, maybe an adjustment of medication is in order," he suggested.

"No more medication, 'Soigner! Don't patronize me. I'm quite ready to be released. What's your reasoning in keeping me? If you don't tell me, I can always call my lawyer: I do have a right to know. You don't want a license-losing lawsuit," I threatened.

Dr. Laurent sighed before addressing my threats. "Isabella, I'm keeping you here _because_ of a lawsuit."

"_WHAT!_" I screeched in surprise. "What the _hell_ are you talking about, Laurent?"

" Isabella, we thought it was best for you to stay in here until… until the publicity of the lawsuit died down," He admitted after shaking his head and further sighing.

"What lawsuit?"

"Your father's against CNN. It looks as though they might settle. Due to the fact that their misrepresentative reporting put into motion your suicide attempts and also upheaval of your family, your father has filed a lawsuit against them for libel under false light laws. He's going to win. There is, however, a bit of a media stir-up going on and we wanted to protect you from it. It is also another reason why Edward isn't staying at your apartment," Laurent admitted. "We didn't want to upset you. Your father didn't want to tell you; we thought it might hurt your recovery if we told you too soon."

Words escaped me. _I was right, there was a conspiracy_, I thought. A numbing feeling came over my body, one that vastly differed from the one I had felt over the past two months. This one was of a chilly betrayal. "So that's how my father planned on paying for my stay," I reasoned. None of this made any sense. Why would they keep me in here if I was OK? Don't they know they were inflicting undue damage?

"Oh, no, your father's not paying for your stay. Dr. Cullen has been a generous financial donor over the years along with donating his time and medical expertise to patients. As a professional favor, your costs have been waived." He explained. This situation was getting more bizarre the longer it occurred.

"What's Carlisle getting out of this, then? Me gone? Is that why he and Esme are so apt to argue to keep me here?" I questioned. The betrayal seemed to run deeper. I fought the tears that were inevitably going to come.

"Isabella, have you not been paying attention? We're all just trying to protect you from the ugly lawsuit and subsequent publicity. This has all been _for_ your benefit. Your father never wanted to argue in front of you to keep you here. He felt it would be lying to you in light of everything else. Carlisle and Esme agreed to bite that bullet for him."

"This is so sick. I'm _not_ paranoid: there really is a conspiracy," I muttered aloud unintentionally.

"It's not a conspiracy, Isabella. Calm down. You were in a catatonic state just a few days ago. Even if we had told you it wouldn't have done you any good. In only recent days you have been cognizant of your doings and have shown tremendous strides of recovery." He was speaking but I wasn't hearing him… All I could feel was … empty betrayal.

"Who knows?"

"_Pardon?_" Dr. Soigner responded. I couldn't tell if it was his accent or he actually lapsed into French.

"Who. Fucking. Knows. About. The lawsuit." I articulated. Hot blood filled my cheeks, staining them red with my fury. Laurent's lips stayed pressed in a thin line, so I decided to further probe. "Does Edward know?"

"No. At least, not that I am aware. If he does, he probably found out after his visit yesterday or will today." At the very least, Dr. Laurent appeared to be forthcoming in giving answers to my questions.

"Alice?"

"Yes. Only just before Edward arrived." His answer stung me deep inside my chest.

"And Rosalie?"

"No. Rosalie… she's having her own issues at the moment. We thought it best to let her deal with her own demons," he explained.

"You mean her mother's demons?" I challenged. Dr. Laurent merely shook his head in agreement before I continued to pick at my cuticles. "I assume that since Alice knows, Jasper knows. Emmett?" I couldn't bring my eyes to his. Emmett and I talked on the phone only yesterday. He had an opportunity to tell me and he didn't…

"Yes. He knows, both of the boys know." My shoulders hunched in defeat.

"And my mother?" I was afraid of his next answer.

"Yes, Isabella, she knows. She's flying in tomorrow to see you, actually," Dr. Soigner informed me. My reignited passionate fury pushed me forward again.

"So, basically my whole damn family is a bunch of liars and secret-keepers. Who the hell can I trust, Laurent? Not you! You lied. Even if I were to stay here-—which I sure as hell am _not_—-I can no longer in good conscious receive therapy from you," I spat. "Does Nurse Emily know?" It was my last attempt at lessening the hurt I felt about their secrecy.

"Yes, she knows. It is _most_ regrettable that you found out this way, but Isabella, omission isn't always a lie."

"This betrayal is worse than a lie."

"Is that what you think this is? A betrayal? Isabella, your family has been looking out for your wellbeing. Naturally you can understand that they would be uneasy telling you about such a serious and stressful topic as this when it could easily send you spiraling downward again," Dr. Soigner explained.

"Dr. Laurent I appreciate your argument, but I respectfully decline to agree. I want my release papers, _now._" I forcefully told him after a moment of quiet contemplation.

"As you wish," he said as he shuffled around his desk and filled out the necessary papers. A half an hour later, I was on my way back to my room to collect my things. On the way, I decided to make a quick stop as I passed the multiple phone banks. After all, I needed to make arrangements for when I leave.

.::.

"Bella! How nice to see you… although your session isn't until later," Jake greeted.

"I know, I just… had a few questions for you," I shyly admitted.

"Well, go ahead," Jacob acquiesced, gesturing to a work table surrounded by a few chairs.

"I'm just going to spit it out, alright?" I warned, as we sat, to which he nodded. "…Did you know about the lawsuit my father filed against CNN?" I watched and waited for a look of knowing in Jacob's eyes but all I saw was confusion and a bit of shock.

"No, this is the first I'm hearing of it… did you want to talk about it?" Jake offered, ever the therapist.

"Oh, no, that's not necessary. It was a pre-cursor question actually. I've just checked out, and I was wondering if it would be OK if I still came to art-therapy sometimes…"

"Of course you can! We'd be lucky to have you. Patients often continue art-therapy along with their other out-patient treatment. How does twice a week sound?"

"Great. That's perfect. I'll see you around Jake."

"Take care of yourself on the outside, Bella. I'll be seeing you."

.::.

"Rose, it's Bella. I've just checked-out of New Moon… and I have something to tell you, something that no one told either of us. I wanted to tell you, so you didn't find out by forcing it out of someone. So… call me back?" I left the message on Rosalie's cell, not wanting Emmett to know what I was up to. She was my first call and my next… well, that I was undecided about. They finally had returned my cell to me so I didn't have to go through the shenanigans of using the in-house phone booths at New Moon. I found multi-tasking-—packing while making calls on my cell—-to be a relief. I was definitely back to my sane self-—better even. I now knew things about myself I hadn't previously. _Hmm, Edward or Alice,_ I internally debated. My frustration and betrayal by Alice hadn't completely dissipated yet, but I would have rather called her to come pick me up than Charlie, Carlisle, or Esme. My dad could find out that I checked-out of New Moon when he comes to visit in the evening, that way he can be _just _as shocked to find out my little secret as I was to find out his.

_Hmmf_, I mentally huffed as I decided that necessity trumped emotions. Dialing Alice's cell, I waited while it rung for her to pick up.

"_Bella?_" She answered, inevitably shocked at seeing my number pop up on her screen.

"Yea, it's me. Listen, I've just checked myself out of New Moon. I'm packing and I need you and Edward to come pick me up. Do _not_ breathe a word of this to anyone, you understand? I know you know about the lawsuit, and I'm _pissed_ no one told me so you better hurry your little ass up because I want to leave before any of our parents find out, alright?" It all came out in a rush, and appropriately so due to the urgency I felt to leave this place.

"_Shit!"_ She cursed, a rarity, _"sorry Bella. Yea, we just got in the car. Edward finished with his physical therapy early so we'll be there in fifteen minutes, OK? I'm sorry B. I was going to tell you… I should probably tell Edward. This family is so damn hush-hush these days… even Rosalie has been holed up in her apartment—_"

"—Alice! Stop talking and just _drive!_" I scolded before I hung up. She attempted to say something before I did, but at that moment I honestly didn't care to hear another word from her until she showed up to get me out of this loony-bin.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Does Bella get out? What's goin on with Jake?**

**Hahaha, find out soon.  
Hope you enjoyed the story's update.  
Rec's and Reviews make it a little easier to write more ;o)**

**-FabulousiTyxXx- **


	8. ShutterBug

**Disclaimer:  **I do not own _Twilight_ or its characters; those are owned by Stephenie Meyers. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Shutter-Bug**

**T**he actions of packing so as to see Edward brought back memories of the night before I was supposed to fly to Paris. I hated packing then, even though I thought I was going to see Edward less than 24 hours later. Shuddering, I tamped down those unpleasant thoughts and where they led me. This time it was different; there was a guarantee that in a matter of minutes I was going to see my Edward. It was that thought that I held onto, keeping me from getting emotional due to the flooding of these unwanted memories. It didn't work because moments after I had thought I had my emotions under control I was suddenly overwhelmed by a memory I did not know I had.

.::.

The overhead florescent lights zoomed by. In my drugged state they seemed like big, fat shooting stars whizzing by above my prone position. Urgency was in the air; it was thick and intoxicating with anxiety. I became acutely aware of the people running next to me, pushing my bed-on-wheels faster and faster. The word hospital lingered in my mind. Oh, that's where I was: a hospital. Attempting to swallow, I realized that in my mouth was a large uncomfortable tube. It was thick and disturbing. After my realization blackness fell all around me.

.::.

Snapping back to reality, nausea overcame me as the smell-memory of bleach and bile remained in my current awareness. Vomit fought its way up my throat, the rising stomach acid burning my esophagus. Running to the bathroom was not an option, so I hunched over and vomited onto the cold tiled floor. This was the first flashback I could ever recall having. "Fuck!" I cursed. Luckily I had some paper towels in the room for easy clean-up. Oddly enough, the smell wasn't unbearable and didn't stand out against the sterile smell of New Moon Psychiatric Facility. It dawned on me that I was now finally leaving the psychiatric hospital, only to start suffering from PTSD. _Fabulous_, I internally whined. A loud knock at the door startled me. Crossing the room, I opened it to find the two people I had been expecting.

"Edward," I breathed as I wrapped my arms around him tightly as I sank into his lap. He kissed my hair in return.

"Hi Bella, baby. Let's get you out of here," he said through smiles. I knew Edward would be just as happy as I was that I was finally getting out of this hell hole.

"Bella, uhm, could I talk to you for a minute?" Alice asked, hesitating at the door, clearly not her usual dancing self. I rolled my eyes. I really didn't have the time or patience to do this now. I lifted myself from the wheelchair before responding.

"Fine," I accepted before turning to Edward who had wheeled himself into my nearly empty room. "Edward, could you just put all of that loose clothing on the bed into the bag next to it?" He nodded as I left the room with Alice, only to follow her a few feet away from my door.

"B, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the lawsuit… but when was I supposed to? When was a good time?" Alice pleaded for forgiveness and understanding. I was not unreasonable, and wouldn't ultimately deny her both, but at that particular moment I wasn't feeling a strong sense of clemency.

"Oh, I don't know, Al. You're my best friend, my _maid of honor_; you're like a freaking sister to me. I think you could have found the time. Off the top of my head I can list yesterday when I called you, yesterday when you dropped Edward off, or maybe Monday when you all came to visit," I persuaded.

"Please Bella, don't hate me for this. I was going to tell you… it just never seemed like a good time. It's been a whirlwind and I'm not so sure I've got a grasp on all the details myself," Alice explained. If I were being honest with myself, I was mostly frustrated with the collaborative effort of my family to keep this from me. Alice was clearly not the ring-leader in this circus event and it was unfair of me to treat her as such. Besides, Alice was giving me her puppy-pout where her little lower lip popped forward just enough to offset her large, pixy-eyes which were currently filled with remorse.

"Al… I don't hate you. I'm not even mad at _you_. I'm just frustrated more than anything. I promise I will not hold this against you as long as you promise that you're not keeping anything else from me," I bargained. Her smile came back instantly and then faltered for a moment while she contemplated my terms.

"I do! Oh Bella!" She squealed as she jumped up and wrapped her little Alice-arms around me in a very sweet hug. "Oh!" she exclaimed, pulling away. " Well, maybe I should tell you this… your hospitalization location must have been leaked to the press because Edward and I passed some photogs at the gate on the way in…"

"What!" I gasped. "I… I don't understand."

"It's because of the lawsuit. Since it's CNN… and suicide attempts… and a Police Chief… Well, all of the factors combined have made it well-known," Alice reasoned.

"So what you're saying is that there are media-whores out there-—outside these loony-bin walls—-trying to snap pictures of _me_?"

"Yes."

"But _why_!"

"I don't know… It's become a pretty big case, some sort of law/human-interest piece. It centers on a love story and you know how people just eat that shit up." Alice attempted to make sense out of the fact that my very privately humiliating and devastating life had now become something of interest to the general public. I didn't even want my grandparents to know I was in the mental hospital, not to mention the entire-_fucking_-country!

"But it's my _life_. It's my… Edward. This is so fucked up. Those people out there are _so_ much more fucked up than me. _They _should be in here!" I turned and stomped back into my room after that last rant. I hadn't wanted to take it out on Alice the frustrations I felt with this even newer piece of information.

Alice hurried behind me back into my room to collect my things. I was finally all packed a couple minutes later with my two bags sitting on Edward's lap. After this morning's breakdown, I didn't want to go see Victoria or Tanya to say goodbye. Soon I would be back for art therapy and I would go find them then so my departure from the ward was abrupt. At the moment, my focus was getting out of New Moon without being mobbed and … well, that was the end of my planning. Descending the elevator was when it finally hit me: where was I to go once I left New Moon?

"Uh, Alice?" I half-whispered as I played with the collar of Edward's shirt.

"Yea?"

"…Where are we going to go once we leave here?" I timidly asked. Although it had only been two months since I had last been at my shared apartment, I was afraid to go back, at least alone. The Elevator dinged as it reached the ground level as its doors opened to the lobby where we were to exit. Just as we stepped out, a female staff member ran towards our little group in a tizzy.

"Let's just worry about getting out of here," Alice muttered before the woman reached us.

"Isabella Swan!"

"Yes?…" I hesitated. If there were going to stop me from leaving, they had another thing coming.

"There's… a situation brewing out the front doors, perhaps we can assist you out the side one…"

Because the three of us had no other choice, we agreed to accept their help. My two bags were transferred from Edward's lap into the arms of a waiting orderly, while I replaced them as Edward held me tight. He and I were pushed—at a very quick pace—by another orderly after Alice had gotten the car and drove around to the side door. Once the car doors were open I hopped into the backseat and slid over so that Edward could also get in. One of the orderlies, very efficiently might I add, folded up Edward's wheelchair and stuffed it into the trunk while the other shoved my bags into the trunk as well. While Alice was driving away like a madwoman, Edward and I crouched like drunken celebrities in the back seat. It was so ridiculous-—probably the most ridiculous escape from a mental institution a person has ever made, and I've seen _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_.

On the way out, we spotted the "situation" the woman had referred to: the media swarming around the front entrance of the building. How the hell such a thing could occur-—the photographers and reporters getting through the front gate—-I had not the slightest inclination. I felt so out of the loop on everything… my habitual strong desire to watch CNN to find out what was going on surged through me once again. That is, it did until I remembered that it had gotten me into this mess I was now in. Some other news station would suffice, preferably BBC, but I didn't deign to think my little incident had made international news. Hell, I was surprised it went national or even local. My _life_ wasn't news-—ever.

"I want a cheeseburger," I whined from the back seat once we were several blocks away.

"I could go for some fries, Al," Edward chimed in. I winked at his willingness to indulge me as I threaded my hand through his. Alice was powerless to rebel against the wishes of her crippled brother and crazy, half-starved, soon-to-be sister-in-law who also, incidentally, was her very best friend. The golden arches of McDonald's were a welcome sight. I knew my stomach probably couldn't handle the grease so soon, but at that moment the melty cheese of the burger and the salty mouth-watering smell of the fries were heaven. It was just what the doctor ordered.

Alice parked in the parking lot of the McDonald's so we could all eat before we further formulated a plan.

"So, where to?" Alice broke the silence as she crumbled her McChicken wrapper and stuffed it into the now-emptied bag. It was surprising how quickly she finished her little sandwich before Edward or I had finished our double-cheeseburgers and fries. He and I eyed one another, willing the other to be selfish with their answer. _Oh, hell. Why not?_ I reasoned with myself.

"Our apartment," I requested with my mouth full of half-chewed fries. Edward's eyes slightly widened when I spoke.

"Bella… maybe you and Edward could stay with Jazz and me just for tonight. My parents are in Forks for the next few days so… it won't be crowded." Alice's tone was conflicted. I shifted my attention to Edward who started to fidget: something he _never_ did.

"Edward?" I whispered. His nervous eyes flicked to my face immediately. "What do you want to do?" I again whispered. I had wanted to confer with him, to start making decisions together instead of separately. It had been so long since either of us had a _choice_ in anything that now that we had gotten our freedom back, I wanted to make all choices together. After all, we had been lacking just that: each other. Edward swallowed nervously before he replied.

"I'm ambivalent, Bella. I… I don't know. On one hand I want us to shut ourselves away from everyone and everything in our apartment and just _be_ together. Yet on the other hand, I think it might be best to stay at Alice's tonight. I want you to be taken care of before…"

"Before I have to take care of you?" I finished for him when his words failed. Shame overcame his devastatingly handsome and somewhat more rugged face as he nodded in agreement.

If it meant this much to him, I could forgo our own bed for one night. My needs didn't matter anymore. This new lease on life I had was for the purpose of Edward. I was working on the theory that if the suicides were the death of me without Edward, then the me that awoke only survived for Edward. If I had truly died, he would have been dead too. I wish I would have seen that then. Perhaps the second and third attempts would have never happened. It's hard, though, to have such faith when your world feels as though it's over. This continuous internal conflict of mine was hard to silence as I went through each day after seeing Edward at New Moon that first day. Turning from Edward, I addressed Alice.

"Your place, go to your place." My arms snaked themselves around Edward's torso as the rest of my body nuzzled into his side: _home_. Finally, I was home.

.::.

The water surrounding me was warm and relaxing. Lazy steam rose in tendrils from the bathtub as I soaked in it. What was better and more healing than the water that unwound my knots and removed the dullness from my skin was Edward's surrounding form. It had been a bit of a chore helping him into the tub, but having his naked body hold me as we soaked was well worth it. I had outright refused to take a bath alone when Alice suggested I take one to unwind in the first place. Edward wasn't really opposed to anything to do with me and him naked-—minus his odd no-sex-tonight policy—-whatever, so he agreed with little to no whining on my part.

Going to Alice and Jasper's apartment had been a good decision, I decided. It was neutral, a comfortable go-between after leaving New Moon before returning to Edward and mine's apartment. We were content to just _be _at their place. Alice's luxurious apartment was a far cry away from the stark and unfriendly atmosphere the aesthetics of New Moon had offered. It was a place Edward and I had come frequently _before_ and so it really was the next best place to ours.

The serious topics had yet to be broached and I felt as though we were afforded the luxury of time with that inconvenience at the moment. After our bath, Alice made us dinner when we were joined by Jasper who had finished classes for the day. It was odd to see that life continued normally for the others when Edward and I were so damaged and stunted. Alice had made way too much food for just the four of us to eat on our own, so I thought maybe, just maybe, Emmett and Rosalie might be joining us, and hoping against hope that it would not turn out to be Dr. and Mrs. Cullen (although I knew that they were back at their home in Forks).

"Ohh! Are Emmett and Rose coming too!" I cheered when I saw the copious amounts of food. Everyone around the table started to shoot concerned and secretive glances at one another before Alice, the one who usually tells people bad news, addressed my question.

"Uhm, no Bella. This food… is for you? We thought you might be really hungry because you look-—" Alice was cut off by Edward's elbow making contact with her arm. Alice made a strangled gasp as she semi-playfully slapped his arm back. Clearly, his interruption had upset her.

"Bella, baby, you know you need to eat," he said a little too loudly and formally for such a simple dinner gathering.

"Oh. OK?" What else was I supposed to say? I knew what they were getting at: how awfully thin I looked. I had gotten a good look at myself in the guest bathroom mirror as I dressed after my bath. My skin was pale, but worse than pale. It was like that pale-gray color of corpse skin and my backside was covered with bruises, presumably from falling out of my bed so often in the middle of the night. My hair had become limp with lack of nutrients. I tried to smile into the mirror to offset my queer reflection, but it just made me look like a creepy dead body, all made up slightly smiling into its casket. Well, OK, maybe I'm exaggerating a little because I looked worse at New Moon than I did in that bathroom mirror… The cheeseburger from earlier had helped a bit.

An uncomfortable silence settled around the table for a moment or two while three pairs of eyes watched to see what I would do. Their hovering annoyed me so I decided to ignore them and tuck-in. Other than the awkwardness, I felt excitement as my mouth watered in anticipation due to the aromas wafting from the food. Garlic mashed potatoes, chicken alfredo, steamed asparagus, and fresh-from-the-oven rolls were piled on my plate.

Once the other three realized that Alice's comment _wasn't_ going to cause a shit-storm from me, they too started to serve themselves food. Although much ado was made about my need to eat more and to start behaving healthier, Alice served each of us with a glass of white wine in celebration. Soon, the four of us were laughing and enjoying conversation and each other as if Edward wasn't sitting in a wheelchair at the table and I hadn't just arrived from a mental institution. The simple love-filled meal gave me hope for the future.

Our little bubble of contentment only lasted until six-thirty in the evening when my cell phone started to ring-—an admittedly foreign sound to my ears.

"Shit!" I cursed when I remembered about Charlie. I opted to silence the call, but not ignore it completely. He'd know if I ignored him which would ultimately have made matters worse. Edward answered my swear with a mere raise of one eyebrow in questioning, to which I muttered: _Charlie_.

"Shit is right! Now he's going to—-" Alice was cut off by her own cell ringing. "…call me. Which, he is!" She exclaimed while pointing to her phone. Before I could tell her _not_ to answer, she did. "Hello?...Yes, I did. She's sleeping… Yes Chief Sw—-Charlie, I fed her… well, maybe we'll all get together tomorrow but right now—-…She's been through enough for one day. It's what she wanted…No, I didn't tell her: she already knew…_you_ should have been the one to tell her…OK. We'll call tomorrow. Don't worry, she's in good care… Yes, I promise…OK, bye," Alice said into the phone before hanging up.

Although the three of us _not_ on the phone only heard a one-sided conversation, we all knew exactly what was being said. It didn't take much for me to imagine the tone, amount of frustrated huffs, and choice of words my father had been using on the phone with Alice. What had been surprising was the brevity of the conversation and how Charlie had seemingly dropped the subject with little assurance from Alice. In these past few months, Charlie must have really developed a strong trust and appreciation for Alice because his reaction was _not at all_ what I had been expecting. Admittedly I expected some sort of breaking-down-the-door behavior while I locked myself somewhere refusing to see him. Apparently all I had to do was have Alice do my bidding and all was well and good. When she had finished her conversation with Charlie, Alice turned to look at me, finally broaching the topics of things that we needed to discuss…the things I'd have rather ignored.

"Bella that reminds me… we need to figure some shit out, OK?" Her tone was soft, yet firm.

"Oh?" I feigned innocence which was ridiculous, but I couldn't help it.

"Yes. Like, what are you planning on doing now? Are you going to continue to see Dr. Soigner? What about culinary school? You only have a few classes left; are you going to finish those up? Oh! Renee is flying in tomorrow, are you planning on seeing her too? Where is she going to stay? Where are you going to stay? Can you drive yet?-—." This was the point I had enough of her incessant questioning and interrupted her.

"Fuck! Al, I don't know. Hell no. Yes I want to finish. Fuck Renée, Charlie, Carlisle, and Esme. My apartment. And I sure-as-shit am going to try!" I responded in the order of her questions. Although I felt confident in my thorough answers, Alice's face and subsequently Edward and Jasper's too looked confused. Sighing, I repeated myself. "I don't know what I'm planning. I am _not_ ever going to see that sleaze Dr. Laurent again for therapy. I've chosen to continue with art therapy, though," I tacked on. "I do actually want to finish culinary school… and like I just said: fuck Renée, Charlie, Carlisle and Esme. I do not wish to talk to them as of this moment so I do not _care _where Renée stays as long as it's not with me. As far as driving, I sure-as-shit am going to try… any other questions?" Edward was the only one to find me at all entertaining as he was the only one trying to suppress a smile. I'm pretty sure he was in love with the new feisty me…pretty damn sure.

"Oh," Jasper replied after a moment for his tongue-tied girlfriend. "So, school sounds good, yeah?"

That was when Edward and I lost it. His body shook me with laughter as he doubled over, bringing my own laughing form with him. The position he and I were laying in on Alice's couch was not conducive to laughing, which only perpetuated our laughing at the ridiculousness of the moment. Leave it to Jasper to pick out the least controversial topic in my entire rant to comment on. Even Alice gave up a smile. Jasper was relieved to feel the release of tension the quiet had created.

"…OK. Sorry, I get it. I just asked you about a thousand and one questions. I support you Bella, but I don't know if ignoring the parents will solve anything. I mean, they've only been trying to do what they feel is right for you."

"That's the problem. I don't think that they actually know what's right for me anymore. Yeah, Ok, I'll admit: I've been roughed up these past couple months. I've gotten to my breaking point and actually shattered into about a million pieces, but I think I've been doing a good job picking myself up these past couple days… right?" Suddenly I wasn't too sure how it looked from the outside. On the inside I felt better, mostly. I definitely didn't have the desire to die anymore. All I wanted was to be better for Edward. I hoped that they could see my will to be better. Waiting for their response made me even more nervous.

"I can see a fucktastically huge difference from the girl that was escorted in by a nurse to see me, and the Bella that sits on my lap now." I love it when Edward peppers his speech with curses… it's so fucking hot. It's rarer to hear it now than it was in high school, but from time to time it reappears.

"Thank you baby," I said with a kiss to his cheek, the one with the scar. Reverently, I traced my finger along its fading edges. Edward's scars were outward, while mine remained inside.

Alice sighed before responding. "I hate to admit it Bella," she paused. Anxiety crept up once again. "But, you're right. You've been getting better and all the while our parents still fear the return of Sui-Cidey at any moment." The lone tear that welled up in my eye said my thanks when my voice, having caught in my through, couldn't.

"You're practically the old Bella. In fact, it seems as though you're older and more in control. You've _never_ been this demanding," Jasper teased. He was right, though, usually I was a bit of a push-over. I had Tanya and Victoria to thank for my new-found ballsy attitude; it was them that I now emulated… minus the crazy ranting and whatnot. The four of us lightly chuckled, thus ending the serious conversation. Admittedly, it went better than expected.

"I like the new rug, Alice." I offered, knowing she'd squeal with excitement over the decorative scheme of her apartment. She loved adding new things to it. It really was a beautiful place. The amount of money spent on making it look fantastic was ridiculous but both Jasper and Alice's parents could afford to shell out the big bucks. Hell, Dr. and Mrs. Cullen even shelled out the big bucks for the apartment Edward and I shared, but I liked to think we kept it modest in comparison to Alice. None of us really ever lived like poor-college-students due to the beautiful living conditions we had.

"Thank you! I'm surprised you noticed! I bought it just last week," she embellished. We chit chatted for a short time about the décor.

Minutes later, Alice sent Jasper for ice-cream which we greedily ate, even though it was about 21 degrees outside, before deciding that a movie and hot cocoa was in order. Unanimously we decided on a comedy-type movie. It felt as though (in a very minuscule way) Jasper and Alice were being extra-gentle with me because when I suggested _French Kiss_, they vehemently refused. Apparently Parisian anything was too much for them to handle. Edward and I merely shrugged it off. It was comical in itself that we seemed to be more well-adjusted than the people in our life that _hadn't_ spend any time recently in a hospital, mental or otherwise.

After much debate-—more on the side of Jasper and Alice trying to decide on _which_ movies would be "OK" for Edward or me to watch-—we finally settled on _The Proposal_ because it was seemingly harmless in comparison to movies like _Zombieland_, _500 Days of Summer_, and _Up_ for reasons like "Bella looked like a Zombie", "_500_ _Days_ might be too much bad love", and "_Up _has death!" _Oh no! Not that!_ I mentally rolled my eyes. Ridiculous, simply ridiculous. None of these comments were meant for either Edward's or my ears, but Alice didn't whisper as quietly as she thought-—she never has.

Once the movie ended, me nodding off toward the end, I felt extremely exhausted. Usually Edward carried me to bed when I fell asleep during movies. A pang of sadness hit me as I realized he will never be able to do that again. Instead, I sat on his lap as Jasper pushed us to the guest room. He helped me get Edward onto the bed and left us alone so I could change Edward myself. Edward's embarrassment emanated from him as I helped him into his pj pants. I enjoyed the view, though, along with the fact that physical therapy helped Edward keep up is defined physique. If I wasn't so tired, I would have encouraged sexual activity but settled for the idea of cuddling in the big white bed under the down comforter. I made him leave off the shirt and opted to turn on the fire place on along with its timer for 30 minutes. I got myself ready before hopping into the bed with Edward. It felt glorious to be in any bed other than the one I had slept on for the past month. Edward was just happy that he had me in the bed with him. We settled into the best night of sleep I had ever gotten in my entire twenty-two years of living.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope the update was enjoyable!**

**On my profile, I have links for a playlist to listen to if you like  
to listen to music as you read as well as a polyvore picture  
of Alice's apartment (specifically living room & guest room).**

**Reviews & Rec's are fantastic. ;o)**

**-FabulousiTyxXx- **


	9. Returning Home

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Twilight_ or its characters-they all belong to the genius of Stephenie Meyers... but I do play with them ;o).

**Chapter 9: Returning Home**

**M**y eyes opened to the soft light of daybreak. I felt disoriented as I tried to blink away the sleepiness. For a few moments I couldn't place where I was until I eyed the stone fireplace in the middle of Alice's guest room. Before spotting it, I thought I had been lucky enough to have dreamt up the whole New Moon fiasco over the past few months, but such was not the case. Stretching, I extended my arms and legs to work out the kinks of a good night's deep sleep. Edward was snoozing steadily beside me. The surrounding air held a chill-—the kind that made you not want to get out of bed in the morning and curl up under the toasty covers.

As I became more sentient as the sleep was wearing off, I realized how _alive _I felt. I had awoken feeling fresh. Perhaps this had to do with the lack of nightmares, or that I spooned with Edward all night or even that I was finally out of the mentally oppressing place I had spent the last month of my life in—-whatever the reason, I greeted it with open arms. Along with this thought, and others, I had an internal debate over whether or not I should get out of bed when my stomach decided that the glorious smells wafting from the kitchen took precedent over my warmth. Once out of the confines of the insanely comfortable bed I donned the kimono robe Alice had bought me for Christmas this year, but had actually given me only several days ago and tip-toed towards the smells assaulting my nose.

Around the corner, I peeked into the kitchen and saw Jasper busily working on Belgium waffles along with what appeared to be, from my distance, a fruit salad and scrambled eggs. He and Alice were truly spoiling me. Making my presence known, I treaded less delicately into the kitchen and hopped up onto a stool at the counter.

"Mornin' darlin'" Jasper greeted without turning around.

"Whatcha got there?" I returned.

"Waffles for Edward…" Jasper teased, turning to set a plate in front of me with thick whip-creamed waffles, a side of eggs and a serving of fruit salad with a cup of coffee, followed by a glass of orange juice. "… and for you."

"Aw, thanks J! I thought I was supposed to be the chef in the group?"

"Bella, it's not hard to add water and two eggs into a premade mix," he laughed. Cutting into the waffle, I smirked in response. Naturally Jasper wasn't as good of a cook as I was by any means, so I felt content that my title role in my group—-Chef Bella—-held strong. _Hmm_, I contemplated my previous thought, _my confidence in myself has definitely become borderline pompous_. I made the mental note of keeping an eye on that.

"Very true. Where's Al?"

"Class. We didn't know when you'd wake up so I thought I'd have food waiting for when you did. Honestly though, Bells, I thought you'd sleep most of the day."

"I'm used to getting up early. They practically forced me out of bed so early for god knows how long…" I paused to gauge the reactive expression on Jasper's face. Although he held the qualities of a man, his emotional range was far superior to most men: he was incredibly sensitive to those of others'. I was also worried that I was speaking a little too freely about the mental hospital I had just been sprung from. "Is this OK to talk about? I mean, it's weird right: discussing the past couple months with such candor?"

"Why? Is it making you uncomfortable? You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, Bella," Jasper soothed. Oh, honestly! I wasn't going to breakdown! I was just _fine_. Everyone needed to realize that I wasn't some China Doll with "handle with care" tattooed on my face. I was so much more resilient than any of them gave me credit for… except maybe Edward. He was always on my side and for that I was grateful.

"I meant, is it OK for _you_? I just…. I don't know. I didn't know if it was awkward for you… to ya know, hear about the loony bin and stuff…" I stammered.

"Yeah, it's fine. That's life for ya: ups and downs and bad decisions sprinkled with heartbreak and held together by love and happiness. You can't keep all that crap in, ya know. Let it out. I hope you're going to continue to talk to someone because there are so many levels of shit that you went through. I can't even imagine grieving for Alice, let alone surviving after trying to end it all. You're tough. I know everyone might not see it yet, but it's there. Just don't drown in that darkness." Jasper's … speech was not exactly what I was expecting from him let alone at breakfast.

"Uhm… thanks J. I appreciate the sentiments." I smiled up at him genuinely. Jasper was very much the unexpected older-brother type I never knew I always wanted and I found myself loving him as such.

When I had met him my first assumption was, other than the false notion that he was Rosalie's boyfriend, that he was just a potentially dumb stoner. Minutes after conversing with him I realized that the first part—-dumb-—was entirely wrong, but I was unsure and needed further proof about the stoner part, which I later found out had a little basis in fact. Jasper's mini-pep talk during breakfast reminded me of something from those early days. In one of the very few psych classes I took while at University of Washington I had learned about multiple intelligences. If I recalled correctly, there was about eight of them give or take. Jasper certainly had the emotional intelligence one without a doubt. It may have taken me three years but I finally figured Jasper Whitlock out: he was absurdly amazing at sensing and handling other's emotions as well as keeping his own under wraps. I had always thought he was so chill because of his years of smoking pot in high school-—a habit that was squashed by little Alice once she joined our crew.

"Anytime, Bella. I'm going to go check on Edward, OK? Go ahead and eat!" Once alone in the kitchen and no longer ensconced in a conversation, I could no longer wait to start devouring the very enticing waffles. Indeed, they lived up to my heightened expectations. A few minutes later while sipping my cup of black coffee, Jasper entered the room pushing Edward in front of him.

"I woke up in the big bed alone, Bella…" Edward chastised.

"Maybe you shouldn't snore so loudly," I teased with a playful wink.

"I do not snore!"

"Oh quit pouting, Edward. I was only joking"

"I am not pouting!"

"Can it, you two! You're putting me off my waffles," Jasper interjected with a chuckle. It was nice to spend time together without pressure of trying to behave "normally" because… well, it felt normal. I had only been out of New Moon for a day, and already I felt as if I belonged in the outside world…which, of course, I did. After breakfast and bad daytime television I decided to hop in the shower. On the way to the room Edward and I were occupying, Jasper cornered me.

"Bells… Edward has physical therapy again today. He doesn't know I'm asking you this yet, but do you want to come? We can stop by your apartment afterwards if you want. I don't have class today, but Alice does. If you want to wait to go to your apartment with Alice you can. I just thought… that maybe it'd be good to just get it over with sooner rather than later."

"Yea, sure. I would love to." My response felt stiff, but I didn't know how else to agree to such a potentially emotional outing. My level of tolerance with all of this emotional gushy crap was about reached so I could feel myself attempting to keep it at bay.

"Great. I'll go tell Edward," Jasper smiled as he rushed back around the corner as I turned to continue my way to their guest room.

.::.

"J, could you give Bella and me a minute?" Edward asked as we paced—-he wheeled—-down the hall towards the PT waiting room.

"Uh, yea. I'll just let them know you're here."

Edward swallowed hard before he turned his head to speak to me. There we were, staring at each other, standing in the middle of the therapy wing of the hospital's hallway. He was so nervous, even adorably so.

"Babe, I… I don't know if can do this," he admitted as he lowered his eyes to the ground, ashamed.

"Of course you can. I'm here for you, just like when you were there for me," I replied. The look on his face told me that I had misunderstood him.

"No… I mean, if you're _here_. I don't want you to see me like this. I struggle so much, I'm still so weak. It'll be hard for you." His eyes still had yet to meet mine again and it frustrated me beyond belief. Did he think I enjoyed having him see me in a hospital gown in a psychiatric hospital unable to walk unsupported?

"Edward, … Edward look at me!" He did. "I'm not going _anywhere_," I promised as I grabbed his hand in both of mine. "We promised our intent to spend the rest of our lives together… we intend to say the vows _for better or for worse, in sickness and in health_ and right now it's for worse and right now we're sick, but I don't care. I'm still here. I'm not quitting you again, OK?" A lone tear rolled down the planes of his cheek, glazing a path over his scar; it almost broke me. Edward tried clearing his throat, but to no avail so he merely nodded his agreement. Letting go of his hand, I pushed his wheelchair down the remainder of the hall and proceeded to spend an hour watching his beautiful face contort in ugly pain as he pushed his body hard into recovery.

.::.

Apparently the new tradition in the making was to get milkshakes after physical therapy, which was something I could most definitely get used to: chocolate milkshakes were my favorite! Edward was still in pain from the physical therapy even after his massage. I had offered to stop by our apartment some other time, but he knew how badly I wanted to see it, so he flat out refused to not go.

When Jasper parked his car in the visitor's lot was when my heart rate picked up. I could feel it reverberating through my body and that knowledge only served to make it worse. The elevator ride was torture; for unknown reasons I felt as though I was riding it to my death. I was becoming irrational and detaching from what was really occurring. Why the hell was I so afraid of my apartment? Crossing the threshold into it, my body shook in tremors.

"Bella, are you alright?" a concerned Jasper called to me from outside my impending mini-breakdown. I mumbled a yes in return.

It looked the same. Everything appeared as if I was only returning from a class. It smelled the same. I dragged my feet, which were growing heavier by the second, across the living room. It all looked as though none of the past few months had even occurred… had it? I became frantic as I searched for proof or confirmation. Jasper and Edward's calling voices were lost on me. It was like I was underwater: everything was sort of quiet except for their muffled, unclear yells at a distance. There were no suitcases packed in my room, the bed was made, the couch area where I had laid waiting to die was even cleaned up. _What would prove that what I experienced was real? _...

The Bathroom! I ran in and locked the door, tore open the cabinets and felt for a taped baggie under the sink… my fingers searched, grasping too hard under the counter until, _oh thank god_, they hit the flimsy plastic and tape. I ripped it off and hugged it to my chest: proof that I wasn't crazier than I thought. At that moment, my pulse began to slow and Jasper's banging on the door and panicked shouts filtered into my consciousness. Gingerly, I stood and opened the door. His face was gaunt, yet flushed. Confusion also colored his face as well as concern. He stared at me blankly as if expecting some sort of explanation for Hurricane Bella. Exiting the bathroom I walked over to the living room, not daring to meet Edward's stare, and leaned my weight against a wall and sank down.

"Everything looked the same. It was like nothing happened… and it scared me," I offered while staring in a trance at the couch.

"Esme comes once a week to clean. She feels it's the least she can do," Jasper spoke after a moment of tense silence. After a brief pause, he spoke again. "Bella, what do you have there?" Looking away from the couch, I stared down at what my arms held tightly to my chest.

"Proof."

"Proof of what?" Both Jasper and Edward said in unison.

"That I wasn't going crazy." Finally returning their stare, I unfolded my arms and offered the empty baggie to the air.

"What was in there!" Jasper panicked, grabbing it from me immediately.

"Oh, no! It was empty. It was from… before," I quickly interjected before things could unravel worse than they already had. A knowing look overtook both of them as I looked back and forth between the two. _Shit_, I thought_, I'm already fucking up this sanity thing!_... deciding that I was poorly behaving as a sane person, I lifted my now-tired body off of the floor. "I'm sorry about that, I just… I felt some sort of panic attack coming on and I needed… I just needed to know that I hadn't hallucinated the past few months." I tried my best to put on a composed and regretful face. I think Jasper was placated. Edward's face was expressionless but his eyes held onto a deep sadness-—worse than earlier in the day.

"It's OK Bella. I hope I didn't hurt the situation by taking you here too soon…"

"No!" I cut off Jasper. "Not at all, it's OK. Everything's fine… just please don't tell Esme. Or Charlie or anyone like that… I'm fine, I promise." He nodded in acquiescence. Edward remained silent as before, saying nothing. Heading to the bedroom-—after letting Jasper know my intentions so as not to freak out that I was going to harm myself—I left the door open and gathered some of my clothes, the clothes that _I_, not Alice, would pick for myself. The act of packing—-_why was I always packing_—-made me grow tired, oh so tired. My big bed, the one that I missed so very much, was calling out to me.

It took mere seconds from the moment I decided that I was fed up with packing to me crawling across my shared bed with Edward into my spot. It was only over the covers, but it was soothing to be safely in my bed; like it was hugging me. My eyes flittered shut as I mused through my favorite memories of this bed. Soon I fell into a restful snooze.

.::.

The bed shifted around me—only very slightly—as I drifted into a light consciousness. A small arm snaked around my side and a tiny body snuggled up to me. The bodily-contact was divine and very comforting.

"I thought you were in class," I mumbled through groggy, sleep-tired lips.

"I was," Alice's voice tinkled, "but it's seven o'clock now. Jasper told me you all were here so I stopped by…" Her voice almost held pity; she was trying hard to keep it out.

"Jasper told you what happened, didn't he?" I whispered, fearing that the emotions that were bubbling up inside me were going to erupt at any moment if I spoke above a whisper.

"Yes, please don't be mad at him. They're out in the living room watching TV."

"I was just so afraid I had imagined it all in my head, and it scared me… I just needed proof…" I trailed off.

"I know. I would have done the same thing," she comforted while stroking my hair, always knowing the right thing to say. After a minute or so of silence, I spoke again.

"It scared me because I started to hope that I had hallucinated it all, which made me more afraid because I was starting to lose a sense of what was real and what wasn't… Alice the hope felt so good, it started to erase the pain and I couldn't go through realizing the pain was real all over again… it almost killed me the first time." My eyes filled with tears as I admitted these repressed thoughts aloud to Alice.

"It's OK, Bella… I should have warned you that Esme comes to clean. But this is normal, what you're feeling. Well, normal for your situation." The guilt I felt started to fade then as another thought spilled through my lips, the worst of them all.

"Edward… could hardly even look at me," I whispered as I choked; that was when I lost it. All of the composure I struggled to create cracked and left in me an open, gaping chasm. Out of the chasm poured tears upon tears, and shaking sobs that shook not only me and Alice, but the bed as well. She hugged me tighter, but didn't say a word. She let me cry it out, something I had desperately needed to do. It was cathartic, healing. I adored it and yet hated it. Feeling vulnerable wasn't a favorite of mine, but it felt so good to cry endlessly that at that point in time I just couldn't care.

I didn't know how long I had been crying before I started to settle, the sobs ceasing while the tears slowed. It was then that I heard the squeaking of Edward's wheelchair entering the room. He wheeled himself around the bed and right to my side of the bed. Our faces were nearly at the same level.

"I love you," was all he said. It was all he needed to say. Those three words coming from him would keep me going, no matter what. It's what I clung to for sanity, and it worked. A smile ghosted on my face as I wiped the tears away from my eyes with the back of my sleeve. I was a mess, but the way he was looking at me made me feel beautiful inside and out.

"I know, for better or for worse," I replied, smiling fully. He leaned over and kissed my forehead and whispered against it.

"We'll get through this; we've already survived the worst."

"I know. We have to, we have no choice," I returned with as much force as I could muster. We had no other option but to keep on surviving.

.::.

**A/N: To my loyal fans, thank you for not giving up.**

**A longer apology is available on _Twilighted_ should you choose to seek one  
for my absenteeism. I promise I have and will not abandon this story.  
It is a part of me, and no man shall be left behind!**

**To be frank, reviews are what saved this story... so thank you!**

**::FabulousiTyxXx:: **


	10. TherRapeMe

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters... I just play with them :o)**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Ther-rape-me**

**BPOV**

**P**izza was ordered once we had gotten back to Alice and Jasper's apartment. No one had wanted to stay in mine and Edward's any longer than it took for us to grab my newly-packed bag of things and leave. I wondered if it would ever feel like _home_ again, or if it would always be stigmatized as the place I didn't die in, but meant to. For the remainder of the evening no one uttered a word of what had transpired at the apartment. There was a silent agreement to put it in the past, _immediately_.

Edward and I went to bed without speaking. He held me as tears slipped silently down my cheeks and into the pillow.

As dawn broke, bringing with it a new day, a clean slate, I felt pressure to face some demons. Whether it was the courage to confront Charlie or to attend an art-therapy session, I didn't know. If I were to maintain sanity and prove to his parents that I could care for Edward, I had to woman-up. I had to show that I was better or at least trying to be. Wallowing in my darkness wouldn't suffice.

Like the day before, I got up before Edward and padded into the kitchen. It was earlier than I realized, only 7:30. My stomach rumbled in the all-too-familiar way as I pondered what I could possibly make for breakfast. Unlike yesterday, I had risen before both Alice and Jasper. This time I would be the one preparing the morning meal. Once the coffee was brewing I began to whip up some beignets. As it always happens when I cook, my consciousness became lost within my actions and peace fell upon me. It was a peace I hadn't felt in _so long_. The peace gave me courage and I knew that I could do what I had set out to do on this day.

Before the smells of the delicious New Orleans' pastry could wake my sleeping family, I got out my cell phone from the pocket of my robe and dialed the familiar number.

It rang only once.

"_Bells!?" _Charlie cried into the phone. The sheer happiness in his voice almost made me tear up.

"Hi dad."

"_Can I see you? How are you? I love you, Bells. I'm so sorry about everything. Can I come over?" _If I hadn't been holding onto my anger about the lawsuit I would have conceded a reunion to him right then and there. After all, it wasn't his fault that his daughter went a little bit crazy after her fiancé was apparently killed.

"No dad, not right now. We need to talk," I stated while trying to maintain a calm that was slipping away. "I need to understand a few things."

"_Anything. I'm so sorry I kept things from you."_ He sounded defeated. I had done that to him.

"When did you file the suit against CNN?" I questioned.

"_After we discovered that Edward was still alive. It was CNN's report and blatant disrespect towards such a delicate issue that made you do what you did. Esme made me see that. She's right._"

"It was Esme's idea!?" Shock was too weak of a word to describe what I felt. Chaos in my mind erupted as I tried to understand what this could possibly mean. I thought back to the day they had all visited me at New Moon—the day I awoke—and remembered the anger emanating from Edward towards his mother. Charlie's words just now sounded foreign on his tongue. They should, after all, because they came straight from Esme's mouth. She had made Charlie her puppet, regurgitating the things she could not say directly herself. But _why?_ Why would Esme be doing these things?

"_Well, yea… it was Esme's idea. She was so upset by what had happened, the way you reacted and how it could have been avoided had CNN been responsible in the reporting of this family's tragedy."_

"Why didn't Esme file herself?"

"_She was not your technical family yet; she had no grounds to sue. I did."_

Realization flickered through now. Esme's strange behavior started to reveal itself to me. Esme was dealt the double blow of possibly losing two of her children in one day: her Eddie and his love, me. Attempt after attempt, while still not knowing the full fate of her son, I tried to rip myself from this world and her. She was devastated and heartbroken worse and worse each time I tried and failed. She had no control over anything. When she found out that Edward was still alive, and that my attempts at my own death would have never happened had the accident been reported with more room for the uncertain, she must have nearly lost it with her own grief and frustration. With the revenge only a mother could desire, Esme would have wanted someone to pay for the severing of her family. She couldn't exact her revenge on Paris, but she could lash out in the states at my catalyst.

It all made sense now.

"Do you really think it's a good idea?" I attempted at sounding neutral.

"_Bella, news outlets should be more responsible in their reporting. We're in the right here, Bells_."

"Fine. Whatever. I'll agree to disagree."

"_Don't you want to hear about the progress—"_

"No. I'll forgive you for lying to me and keeping me in that institution because of that lie even though I was better, on two conditions."

"_Anything!"_ I could hear the remorse in Charlie's voice. My father was never a fan of fighting. In fact, he abhorred it. It was part of the reason why he gave Renee the divorce so easily: it ended the fighting. For him to actively start a fight with CNN was an indication of how much it meant to him. With my own selfish reasons against it aside, I couldn't take it away from him. He had to do what he had to do in order to stay sane with all of this craziness around us. At least he had done a better job than I.

"Do not talk to me about the lawsuit and do not tell me I need help. When I say that I am able to do something, trust in me that I can. I'll get help on my own for dealing with this mess, but please do not resign me to being crazy. I'm not."

"_I_ _know that honey, I do. And I can live with that. I won't mention it. Promise. I love you so much Bells… it killed me to see you like that in that place. I'm so glad you're out and getting better. When can I see you?" _He missed me. It saturated his voice. A pang in my chest alerted me to how much I missed my father too. This time, the tears did come.

"Maybe tonight for dinner? I'm not sure dad; I'll have to talk to Edward and Alice. I love and miss you too." Sniffling, I clumsily wiped away the wetness at my eyes with the sleeve of my robe. Through my blurred vision, I became alerted to Alice's petite form rounding the corner of the hallway and entering the kitchen. I turned my back to her, embarrassed of my unchecked emotional display. "I have to go dad, I made breakfast and everyone is starting to come into the kitchen."

"_You cooked?—" _My dad cut himself off with a grunting, coughing noise. He did that when he was covering up that he was crying. "_I'm so happy for you Bells,"_ he managed after a moment of composing himself.

"Thanks dad. I'll call you later ok? Love you."

"_Love you more,_" he added before hanging up. I took a few steadying breaths before turning around and facing Alice. Immediately I was wrapped in Alice's arms.

"That was a hard call to make. I'm so proud of you," she muffled into my shoulder, squeezing me with her surprisingly strong grip. Losing the minute composure I had regained, tears leaked their way out again as I squeezed her back. Relief washed over me. I had made peace with my father… now to only make peace with Rosalie.

Alice pried her head off of my shoulder after a while and sniff, sniff, sniffed. At first I thought she was crying.

"Holy shit! You made beignets!?" and she released me and went to fill her plate with the still warm pastries and grabbed a mug for coffee. Jasper awoke and joined us a few minutes later so I went to go get Edward. His sleeping form was still on his side of the bed where I left him. Rounding the bed, I sat on the edge next to his body. In his sleep, he looked more at peace than I had seen him since his return from Paris and somehow stronger too. I brushed his sleep-matted hair away from his eyes and forehead and was met with the two brilliant emeralds I was searching for.

Edward, his eyes still misty from sleep, reached up and swiped his thumb across my cheek, cupping my face with his hand as he did. His lips, still and serene before, stretched into a large and face-consuming smile of utter joy.

"You had flour on your cheek," he said simply, but it said everything. He was happy to see that my core being was still intact despite the losses we had endured. I nodded in response.

Shifting his weight and propping himself on his elbow, Edward leaned up and kissed the same cheek. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I brought him up to a full sitting position and buried my face in the crook of his neck where is very Edwardy scent was the strongest. I had craved his smell. It intoxicated every cell in my body and set it alive again with a humming delight. He smelled like very sun: masculine and strong musk with the sweetest hint of honey and sawdust. I inhaled it until I was satiated and then leaned up to reverently kiss the pink scar on his cheek.

"What did you make?" His curiosity broke the comfortable silence.

"Beignets." Upon hearing this, Edwards eyes lit up again, but this time with physical hunger. "And I made coffee for café-au-lait too."

"You are," he said as he kissed each corner of my mouth, "the best," he finished as he kissed my lips chastely. Helping Edward into his wheelchair was a little easier this time, but would have been impossible without the help he gave me. I still had to build my strength back and then some if I were to take over caring for him full-time.

Breakfast between the four of us was another normal meal event. It was both funny and odd to me how such _normal_ things made the biggest impact on me now that I was out of the loony-bin. Breakfast there was a nightmare and had been anything_ but_ normal.

Laughter and proclamations at how scrumptious of a meal it was, was heard all around Alice's perfectly decorated breakfast table. Once everyone had set down their fork saying something to the extent of _I'm so full I could burst_, Alice nonchalantly asked every one of their plans for the day. Alice and Jasper had their first Friday morning classes of the new semester but would be back in time to take Edward to his physical therapy appointment at one-thirty.

"I, uh…" I attempted. "I have art therapy at one-thirty as well," I finished timidly. I didn't know why I was all of the sudden feeling embarrassed after _everything_ we had gone through thus far.

"Perfect!" Alice tinkled. "Jazz can take Edward, I can take you, and then we can all meet up for milkshakes after! This couldn't have worked out better even if _I_ had planned it!" Chuckles were heard around the table and soon the two that were still in college left for class. Edward and I were left alone for the first time since I got out of New Moon.

I looked to Edward and found his eyes already studying me. There were so many unanswered questions, so many stories untold between us, but now was not the time for them. One day I would ask him to tell the story of how he came to be in this wheelchair and the hellish ordeal he endured while in Paris, but today would not be that day. We needed to keep strong and save our strength for the appointments we both had later that day. I couldn't even pressure Edward to have sex because I couldn't handle the inevitable rejection because, to him, I was still so thin and weak.

For a while we laid together on the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around me, watching whatever was on TV. At first we chatted about nothing important, and Edward would plant kisses on the top of my head every once in a while. Not that I minded the quiet, it was nice to just _be_ without a purpose, but a thought kept nagging at my brain.

"Edward?" I asked, turning my head to look at him.

"Mm?" he hummed with his eyes still resting shut.

"Do you still want to marry me?" I asked, unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

"What!? Are you crazy?" His eyes shot open and his face contorted into some sort of shock.

"Please don't say that." My eyes clenched at the word and threatened to spill over with tears.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry Bella, you know I didn't mean it like that. I meant that _of course_ I still want to marry you. I pledged my life to you. I just…" he stopped, losing himself in thought. "I hope you can accept me as damaged goods. I can't be the sort of strong husband you need. I'm a cripple." His self-loathing could not have been more obvious even if he had said the words_ I hate myself._

"Edward! How _dare_ you. How dare you belittle the courage and inner strength it has taken for you to put yourself back together again!" I was sitting up now, in my impassioned anger. "_You_ are worth loving. A body is just a body; a vessel of the soul and your soul is unmarred." Sometimes, I could speak of Edward as if he were poetry. My love for him did that to me.

I searched Edward's eyes as he was rendered speechless by the conflict of emotions he was surely feeling. I couldn't name them, but I could see them as if they were clearly written on his still very beautiful face. His emotions warred until they seemingly became resolved into one. Guilt. His guilt ate at me.

"You don't have to stay with me because of guilt," I softly spoke after a moment or two, unsure of what I should be saying. "I promise I won't try to kill myself again. You're not obligated to stay. I'd understand if you-y-you couldn't love me after what I did," I finished with a sob. My body shook with more and I wanted nothing more than to run away from Edward sitting on the couch, but I knew I couldn't because he couldn't chase me.

He would never even walk again.

Thinking this, I cried some more. Edward's strong arms engulfed me once more, and he spoke soft, loving words to soothe me. After a while, I calmed, and was able to discern what he was saying to me.

"My love for you is stronger than anything I've ever known. The guilt I feel is for my own self-pity. I felt guilty pitying myself because I still had so much to be thankful for and at the center of that is you. Your love is redeeming, it is healing, and I cherish it more than anything in this world. Without you, I could not live. Without you, I would die. There is no place for me in a world in which you do not exist. You almost dying is the single greatest tragedy I will ever face and it only makes me cling to you that much harder. You've never seen yourself very clearly, Bella. You've never thought yourself deserving of love, but you're wrong. You were made to love and be loved. My greatest accomplishment is loving you. Look at me, Bella." I did. "You're right. I am strong and courageous… because I have _you_."

It was a lovely speech. Perhaps he embellished some of the more flowery details about me, but it helped dismantle my own momentary insecurities about him feeling obligations toward me. I couldn't speak but to say that I loved him. This time, when he kissed me, he gave it passion. I saw stars and my heart beat in ways that my body was unused to from the months I had spent in a mental slumber. Before we both were taken to our individual appointments, Edward sought to give me one last encouragement.

"Chin up, love," he called as he rolled through the front door.

"Stay strong," I called back. We both needed the affirmations. He was headed for another physically and somewhat spiritually grueling physical therapy session and I was going back to New Moon.

.::.

"Bella! I'm so glad you've made it!" Jake called as I passed through the art room door. His face beamed like a ray of sunshine. Somehow, he was one of those people that just exuded happiness and positivity. I returned his greeting with my own sheepish smile.

The experience of going back to New Moon was… upsetting and yet simply bizarre. I had felt as though I'd aged a hundred years since making the beignets that morning, particularly after sneaking past the paparazzi and into the back entrance again. Apparently they had yet to discover that I had been released. The facilities smelled the same and the art room was filled with similar, if not the same, weirdo patients it had been filled with the last time I had been in it. Somehow the art room had managed to not only smell like the musty, wooden smell of art supplies, but also the sterile, chemical smell of the psychiatric facility that housed it.

Jake led me over to the table I had occupied during my last visit.

"Since this is the only form of therapy that you'll be receiving, I thought we'd switch things up a bit. That ok?" he asked. Though he was polite enough to phrase it as a question, I knew that there wasn't much of a choice. He was, after all, my therapist.

"Sure," I replied, feeling a little apprehensive.

In front of me, Jake had laid a piece of drawing paper before taking his seat across from me on the thin side of the long rectangular table. "Pick your media." This time I opted for the graphite pencil. Rejoining Jacob in my seat, I awaited for my next instructions.

"You're going to draw while we talk. Don't focus on the drawing itself. Focus on your feelings, on what we're discussing, and how it feels when you use your hands to draw. Sound cool?"

"Alright… what do you want to talk about?" I was at a loss.

"Tell me about yourself."

"_You_ tell me about _yourself_," I responded a little snarkily.

"Bella," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well… I have a hard time opening up to people I don't know. Maybe if you give a little, so will I," I offered.

"Compromise. I like that. We'll go back and forth like that, then. Are you comfortable with that?" He asked. I nodded my response. "Ok. I'll start. I was born with a twin brother."

"I am an only child," I replied, my hand starting to work at the paper. _Think about my hand… it feels good to draw? _

"My brother was hit by a car," he spoke without emotion, though his eyes seemed to convey that he knew was he was doing, the buttons he would push.

"My fiancé was hit by a car."

"My brother died."

"My fiancé is a paraplegic."

"I did lots of drugs."

Tit.

"I tried to kill myself."

For tat.

"I became addicted to heroin."

Tit.

"…Three times."

For tat.

"My parents divorced."

Tit.

"Mine did too."

For tat.

"It wasn't my fault."

Tit.

"It _was_ my fault."

For tat.

"I'm going to stop you there, Bella. Firstly, look at your drawing."

When I looked down, I saw an abstract blur. Though it was seemingly carefully rendered—each stroke of the pencil holding a secret meaning—it was filled with angry, jagged lines. I felt my eyes widen as I lifted them back up to the caramel-brown ones mine had just left.

"You see that you're holding onto a lot of anger, right?" he knowingly questioned.

"I guess."

"Why do you think your parent's divorce was your fault?"

"It wasn't really… I mean, how could it have been? I was six. I was a child."

"Then why did you say it was your fault?"

"Maybe… maybe because it sort of felt that way at the time. It felt like I was being punished for something. I don't know. When you're six and you feel like you're being punished, you sort of take the blame and deal with it."

"How did you deal with it?"

"I didn't. I just got over it."

"How?"

"I don't _fucking _know! Time?"

"Ok. Hold that thought, and get back to drawing. I'm going to check on the other patients for a moment. We'll continue in a bit," he said without the slightest hint of anger or annoyance as he got up.

Though it felt like mere seconds, I assumed that full minutes had passed since Jake's departure based upon the progress of my drawing when he returned. I wouldn't actually call it a drawing anymore. It sort of developed into more of a doodle. When he sat down, he studied my work.

"You're over-thinking it. You're letting your mind be clouded. Knowing what I know about your skills, you're letting this _thing_ become more of a doodle than a piece of art."

He was right. Even though he had just insulted my drawing, I couldn't be mad because he was right. It was now a fucking doodle.

"I need your help," I huffed after shoving my art supplies to the side. He gave me a pointed look as if to say _Obviously! That's why you're here._

"Help will always be given to those who ask." Cryptic.

"I need to make someone forgive me for what I've done, but I'm at a loss as to how," I confessed after a brief staring contest.

"Who do you need to apologize to and what did you do to upset them?"

"My best friend Rosalie, because I tried to kill myself… duh!"

Again I was met with a glance infused with meaning.

"Her… mom died by suicide when she was a teenager. Not only is Rose upset with me, but I've pushed her into a dark, dark hole that she wanted never to return."

"Ahh, I see," he said, sounding like a therapist for the first time. "Humor me, but have you tried calling? Saying you're sorry? You know, the usual simple approaches?"

"Yes. She has ignored my calls and then the only time she talked to me on the phone was to yell at me and call me a coward, which I was."

"Hmm," he paused in thought. "Write her a letter. It's simple yet effective and you can say everything you're feeling. She can read it when she's ready."

"Ok." I found the idea immediately agreeable and wondered why I hadn't yet thought of that myself, but shrugged it off.

"There's a lot of inner conflict going on with you, Bella. It's not just your fiancé's accident, and it's not your attempts to die. It stems further than that. You feel dually about yourself at all times. I'd like to explore that further in our sessions alright?" Jake summed, sounding again like a therapist.

"Ok." With my somewhat of a commitment, Jacob checked his watch.

"Well, Bella, the time has come '_the walrus said_'" he paused to chuckle at his reference to a book characterized with insanity. "See you Monday?" Jacob was odd, but I liked it.

"Yep."

.::.

I had been waiting in the designated spot for Alice for over ten minutes. Alice was never late and I was extremely frustrated. Deciding not to waste my time sitting and waiting, I walked around the insides of New Moon in an attempt to both keep busy and to avoid the stupid media savages outside. Easily I found myself in my old ward roaming its stark and unfriendly walls. The overhead florescent lights buzzed the same as they had when I was held captive under them. When I arrived at the familiar door, I knew where my feet were carrying me.

The only thing left to do was to knock.

I was greeted by Victoria's beautifully strawberry-blonde self. When she realized it was me, she actually smiled; a vast improvement over the last time I had seen her.

Awkward and a little guilty for how I left things, I said "hi" timidly. Victoria, not one to let things fester, hugged me immediately. It was the first time we had ever hugged.

"Vicky!" I exclaimed, too happy to see her to say anything else.

"Bella," she replied upon releasing me, "what are you doing back here? I thought they let you out?"

"They did. I had art therapy today and I wanted to see you." She smiled again.

"Want to come in?"

"Sure." I had never been in her room before. She and Tanya had always come to mine. Even in here, I was a bad friend. Apparently I had no concern for anything or anyone. I tried to recall those feelings again, the thoughts that went through my mind, but it was much too painful. My world then, just a few short days ago, was filled with pain and gray. How beautiful it was to now be able to see colors again, particularly my favorite shade of green.

Vicky's room was similar to the one I had: stark white walls, buzzing overhead lights, chain-link covered window. Instead of hospital-grade-white plain bedding, Victoria had deep plumb sheets and down comforter, a testament to how long she was to stay here. There was makeup items scattered across the surface of her dresser and a few older issues of magazines at the foot of her bed. Had I spent any time in this room while under my own imprisonment, perhaps I would have felt a little more normal. She had been allowed to stick posters to the wall, ones that the staff had deemed appropriate.

"So when are you getting married?" she asked once I had sat on the edge of her bed.

"Oh, uhm… I don't know. There's a lot to figure out, like his last semester of school, my culinary school… we need to handi-proof our apartment," I thought aloud. I hadn't really thought much about the finer details yet. I was just trying to _enjoy_ my time out of New Moon that I hadn't really considered any sort of plan for the future.

"Handi-proof?" Victoria asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"Handicap-proof… Edward is in a wheelchair for life." Upon hearing this, her face dropped.

"Oh my _god_," she paused, "from the accident?" had I not told her this last time? I guess it wasn't important then; I was just so happy that he was _alive_ at all. I was still glad that he was even alive at all, I was just was more realistic about the limitations his wheelchair brought.

"Yea, but it's alright. He goes to physical therapy and gets stronger. When I'm more recovered physically they're going to show me some caretaker moves and exercise."

"Wow. That's heavy."

"I guess, but that's life, right?"

"Hard is the only way I know!" She laughed, and I joined in. Wasn't that the truth?

"_Bella? Bella where are you? I'm sorry I was late!" _ I heard Alice calling from the hallway.

"Shit, my ride is here, but it's been good to see you! I'll stop in Monday after my next art therapy ok?"

"You better!" She said as she hugged me goodbye.

.::.

"I _said_ I was sorry! Traffic was a bitch while trying to avoid the hoards of paparazzi outside of New Moon," Alice said over chocolate milkshakes. It was to Edward she was apologizing. He was the one that was upset with my absence.

"Ally, it's fine. Let it go darlin'," Jasper comforted. Alice rolled her eyes and gave a pointed glance at Edward, as if to say _satisfied?_

"It's fine Al. I forgive you," Edward huffed. I grabbed his hand next to me and gave it a squeeze.

"So how was—" he and I said at the same time and stopped, giggling a little.

"Aw, you two. Still so cute and in-sync five years later," Alice gushed. This time _I_ rolled my eyes.

"So how was physical therapy?" I asked, ignoring Alice's comment. For some reason it annoyed me.

"Fine. Eleazar said that I could have the weekend off after the great progress I've made through the week," Edward shrugged.

"Time off for good behavior, eh? I like." I smiled to him, showing rather than telling how proud I was of him.

"So how about you, B? How was art therapy?" Edward asked, slightly turning in his chair to better look at me.

"Fine," I replied, looking at my milkshake, picking at the straw with my fingers.

"Fine? That's it? That's all I get: a non-committal fine?" he badgered. Exasperated, I met his eye-contact with my own.

"What do you want to know? It was fine. I drew and was asked questions, so I answered them. It didn't really feel like therapy which is _fine_ by me." This time I shrugged. "Jake says I'm angry."

"Who's Jake?" Edward pried. His expression became muddled. Alice and Jasper didn't appear to be as interested in the conversation as Edward and began talking on their own.

"My art therapist."

"Oh." Edward furrowed his brow, almost as if he was concentrating on something. "So he's just some old hippy-ass art therapist?"

"No. He's younger." I could tell where Edward was going with this.

"What's he like? What does he look like?"

"He's nice, a little strange though. He's tall and earthy in almost a medicine man sort of way. Maybe that's why he's an art therapist, he likes to _heal_ people," I responded, trying not to provoke Edward's jealousy. Edward had been jealous of other guys before, but not as quickly as this. Edward was only ever jealous _after_ the guy had hit on me and usually he was easily placated with sex. I was never interested in any guy other than Edward and deep down, he knew it. Before the accident, Edward's jealousy was sort of a sexy game we would play, but now it seemed almost to be real.

"Do you find him attractive?"

"Edward! I hardly see how this could be of any importance." If Alice and Jasper knew what was going on between Edward and me, they made no show of it.

"Answer the question Bella."

"I suppose he's good-looking, but am I _attracted _to him? No. He's my art-therapist and I only see him in that capacity. I love _you_, I'm attracted to _you_."

"He sounds like the perfect specimen of a man," Edward replied icily. I couldn't let this nonsense go on any longer. Edward was becoming an emotional wreck, much like how I was _after_ the accident and _before_ I found out he was alive.

"Edward, look at me," I requested. It looked as though he was studying the hands in his lap, but I could tell that he was really staring at his seemingly useless legs. Slowly, Edward turned his head towards mine. There was fear in his eyes and a sort of anguish on his face. "Is this because you're in a wheelchair?" Distress erupted all over his face. It contorted in a silent pain that I was sorry to have caused, but the question I had posed was necessary. He needed, _we needed_, to get past this.

"What?" his voice almost broke.

"Edward," I pleaded.

"I mean…" he started. He heaved a sigh of frustration and surrender. "I guess it is." Edward looked away from me and out the drizzle-filled window for several seconds and turned back to me. "It's like all of the confidence I had is _gone_. I used to be sort of cocky, you know? Now, I can't help second guessing why you'd even stick with a cripple like me. I _know_ that you love me, but sometimes that small inner voice tells me I'm not worth it," he whispered. It was so soft that even if Alice and Jasper had been listening, they wouldn't have heard.

"Edward, I can't keep doing this. I can't keep telling you how amazing you are and how perfect and handsome and strong and brave and talented… It's exhausting and I'm still weak myself. I love you, and I'll be at your side until the end of time, you _know_ that. I," I paused, weighing the words carefully. "I think that maybe you should get some therapy too, you know, for your mind."

His expression was not angry; it was not sad or frustrated. It was surrender. Edward was surrendering the mental burden that he had been carrying.

"You might be right," was all he said. It was all he needed to say. He finished his milkshake as Alice and Jasper deemed it appropriate to join the conversation. They discussed unimportant things to us while Edward and I sipped our milkshakes in silence. When Jasper went to get the car and Alice went to pay, Edward grabbed my wrist as I was removing myself from the booth. His face was set with a mustered resolve.

"I love you. You are always beautiful to me, but I think you should see a physician because your body is scarily thin," he said with all the love and support he could manage, which was endless. As I looked down at myself, I finally saw my body through Edward's eyes. My usually small breasts were all but gone, I could count the ribs on my chest, and my clothes draped and drowned my now-tiny frame. My arms were thin and I could see a small, blue, ivy-like network of veins through my nearly translucent skin. My bones appeared to sharply protrude from my paper-thin skin. If I looked like this _now_, I was scared to imagine what I looked like just a few days ago.

I was a walking, talking corpse.

.::.

* * *

**A/N: I'm back! It's back! No, this story is not going into the delete bin.  
****No, I'm not abandoning this little fic.**

**This story is one that takes time. The characters deserve their time.**

**I hope you enjoyed the update. **

**Rec & Review!**

**::FabulousiTyxXx::**


End file.
